Spectator
by Fanfic Allergy
Summary: AU: Prim volunteers to take a pregnant Katniss' place in the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games. Peeta vows to make sure Prim comes home alive. Now all Katniss can do is watch and hope that the boy with the bread will keep his word and her sister makes it home. That is until the Capitol finds a way to mess everything up. Cato/Clove, former Gale/Katniss, eventual Peeta/Katniss (kinda).
1. Chapter One - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_**By Fanfic Allergy**_

* * *

**Chapter One**

Light streams through the window beside the bed I share with my sister waking me from my restless sleep. As I open my eyes, I let out a small groan noting the position of the sun in the sky. I'd planned on getting up earlier than this so I could do a lot of hunting before the events of the afternoon.

I roll over and my bladder twinges uncomfortably letting me know in no uncertain terms that I need to get up. As I start to get out of bed, I'm a little surprised when I realize my sister is still sleeping curled up against my back. I would have thought on today, of all days, she would have sought the comfort of our mother's bed. I guess she's grown up since the morning of her twelfth birthday four months ago, which was the last time I caught her sleeping with our mother.

I guess we all have.

I disengage Prim's arm from around my stomach and slip out from under the thin blanket. Standing upright, I realize I've made a mistake. The world shifts and spins and I fight to keep from blacking out. I sit down heavily on the bed and wait for the head rush to pass. These dizzy spells have been coming more and more frequently, much to my annoyance. My mother says it's not unusual considering I'm not eating properly. I stifle a snort at the remembered words. No one eats properly in the Seam. Still, I long for the days when standing up quickly didn't cause the world to spin like a child's top.

Prim's cat, Buttercup, hisses at me from his spot behind my sister's knees. I frown at the ugly yellow cat. "You do that again and I'll eat you," I threaten. Buttercup's eyes narrow and I can tell that he is considering doing just that when Prim shifts underneath the thin cover. Deciding to abandon hissing at me to go nuzzle at his mistress, Buttercup saunters up to Prim's face and gives a pathetic kitten meow.

"Katniss?" my sister's voice asks sleepily.

"Go back to sleep," I whisper, hoping that she'll do just that.

Unfortunately Prim ignores me. "You okay?" Prim's voice asks.

I grimace, naturally she would notice I'm leaning heavily on the edge of the bed. "I'm fine. Just getting up to pee."

"You want help?" she asks.

"No, I think I can pee on my own." And to prove my point, I start slowly making my way to the door leading out to the outhouse walking with one hand on a piece of furniture or a wall all the way. By the time I empty my bladder, the lightheaded feeling has passed. I feel better and ready to face the day. At least as ready as any person between the ages of twelve and eighteen can feel on Reaping Day.

When I get back inside, I notice Prim is no longer lying in bed but is instead up and dressed, my gathering bag flung over one shoulder, and is at the kitchen counter making the both of us breakfast of a few slices of bread and a little of her goat cheese. When she sees me, she smiles over one shoulder. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah."

"You still getting dizzy?" She looks at me pointedly.

I wince. "Yeah."

Prim frowns and scrapes some goat cheese from her bread on to mine. I start to protest but she stops me with a stern look. She knows as well as I do that I shouldn't be getting dizzy at all but she doesn't comment on it. Instead she says, "You should get dressed. The reaping isn't until two and we can get some good gathering in."

"And hunting," I add.

Prim makes a face. "That too." Ever since she started joining me on my daily excursions outside of the fence, she's become more accustomed to the necessities of hunting and killing your food. But she doesn't like it. However, when I suggest she doesn't need to join me anymore and that I already have a hunting partner in Gale she quickly shoots me down. It's just as well, I don't feel as comfortable with Gale as I used to and being alone outside the fence isn't a good idea at the best of times. And this really isn't the best of times.

I get dressed, noting with displeasure that my clothes don't fit me as well as they used to. Still it's not too bad, so I muddle through and pull on my boots. When I stand, Prim is there with my breakfast and I take it with a nod. I've learned never to turn down food in the past and it's an even more important lesson now.

As I eat my bread and cheese, Prim and I start walking toward the Meadow and the fence beyond it. "So what are we doing today?" she asks.

"I was planning on setting a few snares and maybe seeing if the blackberries and strawberries had ripened," I answer in between mouthfuls.

"Oh! I love strawberries!" Prim exclaims clapping her hands in delight.

I can't keep the smile from my face. "The mayor likes them more and he's willing to pay for them."

Prim pouts for a second at me then smiles. "Can we fish rather than hunt?"

I consider it. I can get more in trade when I hunt. Things we need like sugar, string, salt, tallow and clothes. But Prim seems to be more willing to kill when it comes to fish, probably because they aren't cute and cuddly like the game I hunt. "We'll see," I reply.

"Buttercup would like it better if we did," Prim tries wheedling.

"Oh, he would, would he?" I say with a smile.

"Yup! Please, Katniss!"

I sigh. "Fine. We can fish, but while you're picking berries, I'm going to try to get a few squirrels or something."

Prim's face falls for a moment, then she seems to accept it is about the best 'm going to do. It is true, besides we really need the extra income. Even with my mother the primary healer in the Seam we d0n't make all that much. Mostly my mother gets paid in goods, if she gets paid at all. Thinking about healing and my mother another thought pops into my head. "Once we get out there, we should try to get some more herbs for Mother. You know, just in case."

My sister screws up her face in thought for a moment, then nods. "I know just the ones."

When we reach the fence, we listen for the tell tale buzz of electricity running through the wires before slipping under the bottommost wire. I still get a little thrill from doing something illegal, even though I've been venturing out beyond the fence for over four years now. I feel lighter, freer on the other side of the fence than I do in District Twelve. We clear the tree line and I automatically set off toward the little cave covered by blackberry bushes where I used to meet with Gale.

Prim follows her eyes darting here and there nervously. She's always a little nervous in the woods and I can't really blame her. The second time she joined me in the woods a wild dog charged us. Luckily, I had my bow and was able to kill the beast before it did any damage. But it still scared the crap out of her, literally unfortunately, which didn't make Prim any happier having to walk home in soiled clothing.

We reach the jumble of rocks where I used to meet with Gale and the brambles of blackberry bushes scattered all over the area. Prim pulls out a square of cloth from my gathering bag and beelines for the berries. "Don't eat too many!" I call and she grins at me. I leave her be and walk over to the hollow tree where I store my favorite of my father's bows. I don't dare keep them inside the fence because while catching game is overlooked by the authorities so long as they don't outright catch you in the act of poaching, owning a weapon is on a whole other scale. If the Peacekeepers found out, I could be whipped or worse, so it is safer to keep the weapons out in the woods despite the potential damage from the weather.

I pull out the bow and sit down on a fallen log to string it while watching Prim. She is picking the berries with a smile on her face with about every fifth berry finding its way into her mouth. I don't say anything to her, my sister deserves her indulgence. She doesn't have to come with me into the woods, but she does it anyway because she loves me.

I feel more than hear someone approaching the two of us and cautiously turn to face the interloper, my bow at the ready. Almost as soon as I raise it, I lower it.

It's Gale.

My friend and hunting partner smiles slowly at the two of us. "Hey Catnip. Prim," he says in greeting.

Prim stops her gathering to shoot Gale a wary look. Ever since the events of her birthday she hasn't liked Gale as much as she used to. I can't blame her. I don't feel the same way about Gale that I used to either.

Not wanting to be totally rude to him, I greet, "Hi Gale. I didn't think you were going to be here today." It is the truth, I didn't think he was going to come here, to this spot. It is one of the reasons I'd set out for here.

"I wanted to get some berries, for Posy," he replies looking a little sheepish. I nod. His baby sister loves blackberries and Gale loves her.

"We can go somewhere else," Prim says moving to gather up her square of cloth.

He shakes his head. "No, I don't want to drive you away." He looks around nervously. "So what are you two planning on doing today?"

I know why he's asking. He wants to know if he's going to be in the way or if he can hang around with the two of us. "We were thinking of heading to the stream to set up a few nets and then pick some strawberries and maybe gather a few herbs."

"Not going to hunt?" he asks eyeing the bow in my hands.

"If the opportunity presents itself, I am," I answer.

"What about snares?"

I shrug. "I'm not as good with them as you." It's not false modesty, Gale is a better trapper than I am but I'm a better shot. We were a good team.

"I could come with you," he offers. "Set some snares and we can split fish and game?"

I look over at Prim who has stayed silent during the exchange. She looks like she wants to object but she knows that while out in the woods I am in charge. It is my call. My choice. "You can come with us, Gale," I say after a few moments. "But you don't need to feel obligated to."

A flash of anger sparks in Gale's Seam grey eyes. "You make it sound like hunting with me is a burden."

"You're overreacting," I state. "I just don't want you to change your plans because you feel like you need to watch over Prim and me."

"Dammit, Katniss! I should be watching over you!" he explodes, flailing his hands around for emphasis. "You're pregnant with my child!"

* * *

**AN:**

This was originally written on November 1, 2012 as part of Nanowrimo. It was revised as of November 26, 2012 after I won Nanowrimo.

Beta read by RoseFyre.

Now that I have that out of the way, if you can't tell this story is definitely falling into the Realm of Alternate Universe. I've put out enough chapters that I feel that I can reveal the primary pairings of this story. There are three. A former Gale/Katniss as you can guess. An eventual Peeta/Katnisss, well, at least as much of one as we get at the beginning of Catching Fire. And Cato/Clove. There are others, but they are decidedly secondary and not important to the plot. This is also not a pure romance but something I am trying to write in the same feel and vein as the original books. I have this thing planned out through the end of Mockingjay for goodness' sake.

I've had this idea kicking around in my brain since about March and have held off on writing it until now. I hope you enjoy.

Reviews are the currency of all fanfic authors. It is the only payment that we receive.


	2. Chapter Two - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Warnings: Oblique discussion of the possibility of forcible intercourse, pregnancy options, and mild swearwords. Nothing worse than you would hear on primetime television or were mentioned in the original novels. But still, it's worth warning about.

Spectator

_**By Fanfic Allergy**_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

I glare at Gale. He's right. I am pregnant with his child and I really don't want to be.

We didn't plan on getting pregnant. It just kind of happened.

It was at Prim's birthday party four months ago. I'd managed to get a winter pheasant while out hunting and Gale had traded at the Hob for a few sweets and some cider from this autumn's apples. What we didn't know at the time was that the cider had turned. We also didn't know that apparently I have a really low tolerance for alcohol. Prim does too, but in her case it just makes her sleepy. Me, I get silly and my inhibitions lower.

I'd rather get sleepy. It's safer.

My mother got called away early in the night to deal with someone who fell on the ice and ended up breaking something, I think a leg. Hazelle, Gale's mother, stuck around as long as she could but she needed to go home and get Posy into bed. Gale offered to stick around and help clean up. Seeing that Prim was already sleeping from her one glass of cider, I accepted.

In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have but it was Gale and he was my friend. I never really saw him as anything more until that night. I'm not really sure how things started. We finished off what was left of the cider since it was starting to taste funny and you don't waste food in the Seam. Then we put away what leftovers there were. Throughout it all we were playing and teasing each other and making outrageous statements and jokes. Then, things became weird.

Gale kissed me.

Standing next to each other at the sink doing the dishes, Gale leaned over and planted a kiss on my mouth. I was surprised, but it didn't feel wrong or bad. Just odd. And I was curious, so I kissed him back.

The rest is, as they say, history. I remember liking a lot of it. Most of it, in fact. Right up until a certain point when things became painfully uncomfortable. My mother told me later that it is very unusual for a girl to enjoy her first time, that it would take a lot of awareness and gentleness on her partner's part and even then there was bound to be some discomfort. Gale and I weren't really aware of just what we were doing and there was little in the way of foreplay, just lots of frantic groping and kissing. What little foreplay there was, I'd enjoyed. Just not enough to want to do it again once the alcohol wore off.

The following morning, my mother returned from her patient and found us curled up in her bed together. I'd told her that we'd just been sleeping and that nothing had happened but I know she didn't believe me. After all, blood stains don't lie. Still, she didn't say anything. Probably hoping that nothing would come of the encounter.

Of course, I wasn't so lucky. About two months after that night, I started feeling sick, tired, and dizzy. But it was spring and I passed the feeling off as one of those springtime colds that everyone seems to get coupled with food poisoning of some kind.

Denial can be pretty imaginative at times.

It was Prim who was the first to realize that I was pregnant. I think it was because every morning right before the sun rose, I would suddenly dart from my bed to the sink or the back door to throw up. So she confronted me.

I tried to deny it. After all, my menses have never been what you would call regular, too little food and too much activity, so it was common for me to skip periods. Then Prim started listing out all of the symptoms of pregnancy. As I listened I realized I couldn't deny that they were pretty much spot on. Especially when under my clothes I'd seen the small, unmistakable bulge of my belly starting to form.

She'd wanted to know how it happened and who the father was. When I told her it was Gale and it had happened on her birthday, she got angry. Really angry. I don't think all of the anger was directed at Gale, I think she blames herself for falling asleep and "letting me get taken advantage of." Her words, not mine. I tried to tell her that it wasn't like that, but she knows that I don't want children, I've said it often enough. She knows I don't think of Gale in that way. She knows that something had to make me change my mind, which she doubts, or I was forced.

So even though I hadn't said no, and, in fact, was somewhat okay with what happened that night, she doesn't believe me. She thinks I'm trying to protect her. She has a point. If I had been forced, I wouldn't tell my sister. I wouldn't tell anyone. Although, I would hope Prim should know me well enough to know that I'd kill anyone who'd do that to me and damn the consequences.

Once I'd found out I was pregnant, I'll admit that the first thought I had was of how to end it. My mother is an herbalist and the Seam's primary healer so I know there are options. However, they are only possible if the mother isn't very far along.

By the time Prim figured out I was pregnant, I was already starting my second trimester. Too late for the safe options, there are other less-safe options but I know my mother won't use them on me. She won't use them, period.

Which meant that I was going to have this baby. Gale's baby. And that meant I needed to tell Gale he was going to be a father.

That's a conversation I don't like to remember. It was mostly the two of us arguing, him insisting we get married, me insisting that I'm not going to. It's the same argument we've had every time we've met since I told him about the baby. One time, I accused him of knocking me up just so he could trap me into marriage. I think Prim overheard that argument because ever since then she's insisted that she accompany me whenever I go into the woods.

She's been joining me for little over a month now.

I've been slowly teaching her about how to use a bow and how to fish and set snares. She doesn't like to kill. Underneath it all, she's still my little sister who'd rather heal the squirrel than eat it. However, she also knows that in a few short months, I won't be able to go out into the woods anymore. Not until the baby is born.

I can't help feeling guilty about that, it'd been my plan to not allow Prim to take tesserae so she'd only have one slip in the bowl come Reaping Day. But after I found out I was pregnant, she went to the Justice Building with our little wagon and signed up for her share of tesserae. So now Prim will have four slips in the large glass bowl this afternoon. That's three more than I wanted. Three more chances for her to get Reaped.

One little mistake and my whole world has been turned upside down. I'm not about to make another one. And marrying Gale out of obligation would be a mistake.

"We've gone over this, Gale," I say with a sigh. "You may have fathered the parasite inside of me, but that doesn't mean that you owe me anything. I can take care of myself."

"And if she can't," Prim pipes up. "She's got Mom and me." I can tell that Prim still hasn't forgiven Gale for knocking me up. I've tried to tell her that he didn't take advantage of me. But she won't hear it. My baby sister, normally so sweet and forgiving, is becoming hard. Like me. Like I never wanted her to be.

"But I need to do right by you, Catnip. Make sure our baby isn't a bastard," he insists. His tone is pleading.

"I've told you I'm not interested, Gale," I repeat for what feels like the millionth time. "I don't want to get married. Not to you. Not to anyone," I add when I see his face start to crumble. In another life or time, I suppose Gale and I would have ended up married to each other. But I haven't wanted to get married, not since I was a little girl, not after my father was killed in an explosion in the mines when I was eleven.

Gale's father was killed in the same explosion, something that brought us closer together when we became hunting partners. Still, ever since that time, ever since I saw my mother withdraw into herself and I was thrust into the role of primary caretaker, I haven't wanted to get married or have children. I don't have a choice anymore on the having children bit. But I damn well am going to have a choice on the getting married part.

Gale sits down heavily on a rock and looks at me. "What do you expect me to do, Katniss?"

I sit down next to him and take his hand. Prim frowns at this but I ignore it. "Honestly? Nothing. I don't expect you to do anything. Neither of us planned this. Neither of us wanted this."

He looks over at me and places a hand on my stomach. "I did."

"Really?" I ask, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

He laughs and pulls his hand away. "Well, not right now. It's not like I planned this. I mean it is damned inconvenient what with both of us eligible for the Reaping still. But yeah, someday I thought you'd see what was right before your eyes and then we'd settle down." He looks at me sadly. "Have a family."

I sigh. "It wasn't going to happen that way, Gale. After seeing what so many families go through when their kids die in the Arena, it was never going to happen. "

"There's no guarantee that they'll get called," he tries to reason.

"And there's no guarantee that they won't get called either," I counter. "And until I could make sure that they will never go into the Arena. That they won't die for the Capitol's enjoyment. I was never going to get married. Never going to have kids." I'm getting angry, well, angrier. My temper which was never very long to begin with seems to have shortened since becoming pregnant.

At this point, Prim steps in. "I thought we were going to go fishing, Katniss? We want to have something for the feast afterward."

I nod, grateful for an excuse to cut the conversation with Gale short. "Prim's right. We've got to get going. We got a late start."

"I can go with you. Help you out," he offers. "I've already gotten the game from my snares."

"That wouldn't be a good idea," Prim says, drawing herself up to her full height. "Katniss is teaching me how to be more like her."

Gale looks back and forth between Prim and me and shakes his head with visible frustration. "Just make sure that you don't become too much like her," he says bitterly, turning to walk away.

"What did you mean by that?" I snap.

"Nothing," he says without turning around. "I... it's nothing." And with those cryptic words he walks away, leaving me wondering what he meant.

* * *

**AN:**

Chapter written 11/2/2012. Revised 11/27/2012. Written as part of Nanowrimo.

Beta Read by RoseFyre.

I am not the happiest with the chapter. It doesn't what it is supposed to but it is mostly expository. I dislike the whole FLASHBACK/END FLASHBACK crutch used in a lot of fanfiction, so you will not see that here.

I need to state that the views of the characters are not necessarily my own. But Katniss in the books is so very anti-child and marriage I can't say that if she had found out that she was pregnant that she wouldn't consider getting rid of the child. There are several herbal ways to stimulate uterine contractions and a lot of the plants are pretty benign and used in a lot of herbal. I am not listing them here or in the story. I am only aware of them because I do practice a lot of herbal medicine and I've done a lot of study into women's history.

I look forward to hearing what you think.

Thanks to my reviewers for the previous chapter: emms 56 & JJ.

Reviews are the currency of all fanfic authors. It is the only payment that we receive. Please consider taking a few seconds to tell me what you thought. Thanks!


	3. Chapter Three - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Note: There are a few quotes that are taken from chapter one of the hunger games. Mostly Effie's lines.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Three**

We spend the rest of the morning fishing and picking berries. Prim manages to find a bunch of yarrow and horsetail growing along the side of the stream and harvests those. I don't ask what they are used for, since I've learned I really don't want to know. I can kill and clean an animal with ease but treating a sick human that makes me squeamish.

I take advantage of Prim's gathering to do a little hunting on my own. I'm able to get a few squirrels and a rabbit before I sense that it's time to head back. Prim and I haul in our nets. The catch is pretty abysmal: only four fish. Almost not worth setting them for, but food is food and you don't turn away food in the Seam.

We secure the results of our morning's labors and head back toward the fence. As I always do, I caution her to pause and listen to the fence. Nothing, no buzzing, so we clamber underneath and into the Meadow. Here we separate, Prim to pick a few flowers and take the food that we aren't going to trade back to our house. While I'll take the game around to trade.

My first stop is at the Hob, where I head to Greasy Sae's stand. The old woman has an amazing knack for turning the most humble of meats into a delicious stew. I remember when I used to be scared of coming to the Hob right after my father's death thinking it was a dangerous and depraved place. It isn't legal, but the only danger is from the rotten coal dust soaked wood, not the people who frequent it. I trade my rabbit to Sae unskinned and only field dressed. I know I could get more if I skinned it and sold the different parts separately, but I also know I need to stay on Sae's good side. She's the only person who will buy wild dog or the muttation rats from me. If that means I get a little less for a good sized rabbit than I could somewhere else, I'll do it. Good will is worth its weight in coin.

She gives me enough for the rabbit that I'll be able to get the lamp oil and string we need as well some left over. I'll take the rest back for the little stash I am keeping for when the baby comes. I'm going to need everything from crib, to clothes, to diapers, to well everything.

As if she read my mind, Sae speaks up. "How far along are ye?"

I look up at her startled. "A little over four months," I answer.

She nods. "I thought so. You need to be eating more, baby's turning you to skin and bones. Not that you weren't before."

"I know," I say with a grimace. It's a refrain I hear all the time from my mother, from Prim, from Gale. I need to eat more. But it's just not that easy. If I eat as much as I am supposed to I'm going to be taking food out of Prim's mouth. And I just can't do that.

"Look, you listen here, girlie. When you gets to your last few months you come see me with nice pair of beavers or about four good sized rabbits like this one." She holds up the animal I'd just traded for emphasis. "And I'll trade you my granddaughter's old baby clothes for 'em. They ain't new but they's better than most of these lot'll have."

I nod my head numbly in thanks and turn away. She's right. Most of what you can get from the Hob is so worn and patched that it is barely clothing. Sae 's offer is generous. Really generous. Although I know that beaver pelt can be really lucrative especially in the winter and the tail is a considered a delicacy by several of the Peacekeepers. It's still a good deal.

I make the rest of my purchases quickly and take the two squirrels with me into town and the baker's shop. I knock on the door and hope the baker answers and not the shrew of a woman who is his wife. I'm in luck because the door opens and the baker greets me with a smile and quickly motions for me to come in. I step into the bakery and a flood of smells assaults my senses. Warm rich yeasty bread, rich spicy cakes, cookies, pastries, so many wonderful smells that my mouth begins to water.

Reaching behind him, the baker snags an uniced sugar cookie and hands it to me. "Here, have this while we work out a price for whatever is in your bag." I start to protest and he quickly adds. "It's too burnt for customers."

They're not, but I know the man is trying to be nice to me and like everyone else thinks I'm too thin. "Thank you," I mumble and take a bite, the buttery richness dances across my tongue and I fight to not bolt the cookie like a starving dog. "I've got two squirrels if you're interested." I open my bag and pull out the two animals by their bushy tails.

The baker eyes them. "They look a little scrawny," he starts. "I can only offer two loaves."

I know he's only saying that they are scrawny for the benefit of his wife if she were to happen to walk in. Two loaves of bread is definitely more than I would have gotten from her and he didn't even specify day old or stale bread so I know what I am going to get is going to be fresh. I nod, not bothering to haggle. It's a good deal and I know it.

A smile crosses his features. "Wonderful! Which two loaves do you want?" he asks motioning to the cooling racks and I realize that he's giving me even more than I bargained for. My choice of bread.

Carefully I walk over to the racks and see what they have there. A rich dark bread that I know has dried fruit and nuts in it catches my eye and I point at it. The bread has a special significance to me and I always get it when I get a chance. For my second loaf, I pick something simpler, a nice soda bread I know will taste good with any kind of stew.

The baker smiles at my choices and gets a little paper to wrap them up in. I accept the wrapped package and I can feel that there is more than just the bread in it. I look up at him in askance.

He holds a finger to his lips and whispers. "Shhhh... It'll be our secret."

"Thank you," I say sincerely.

"Just remember me whenever you get your squirrels. They are better than anything the butcher has," he says.

"I will," I respond and the words are the truth. I will always bring the baker my squirrels because he is so kind and gives me such a good deal.

My trading finished I walk back to the Seam feeling good about the trades I made. When I get home, I find that Prim has already cleaned the four fish and is feeding the entrails to her cat.

"You're going to make that cat fat," I say by way of greeting.

My sister looks over her shoulder at me. "He deserves it. He keeps our house free of vermin."

"I guess," I respond. I know she's right, he is a good mouser and ratter. We've even eaten the 'gifts' he's left Prim when we're desperate. I just don't like the cat and he doesn't like me so we're even.

"What do you have in the bag?" she asks, pointing with her head toward the package of bread from the bakery.

"Wash your hands and I'll show you."

Prim stands up and walks into the house and to the kitchen sink. She pumps water over one of her hands using the elbow of one arm and then using the clean hand to pump water for the dirty one. I watch her with bemusement since before my pregnancy she would have just asked me for help. She doesn't do that as much anymore.

When her hands are clean, I place the paper wrapped package on the counter and motion for her to open it. She does so carefully, preserving the wrapping and string so that it can be reused. She lifts out the two loves, still slightly warm and sighs when she sees what they were cradling. "Oh Katniss."

I look over and there are three iced cookies each in a little clear baggie to keep them safe. One is iced with yellow primroses, another katniss flowers, the third tricolor violets. They were obviously made specifically for each of us. And I find myself wondering if I shouldn't return them, but seeing the smile on Prim's face I can't bring myself to mention it. I'll just have to be a little more careful when bartering with him next time to make up for it.

"I didn't know they were in there, Prim. Honest."

She turns to look at me. "I know. You never would have gotten them, they're far too extravagant. But why do you think the baker gave them to us?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe because it's Reaping Day and he wants to be nice. Or maybe it's a thank you for all of the squirrels I've brought him over the years. Who knows."

"I think it's more of the first. He likes you, Katniss."

"Ewwww!" I say, deliberately misunderstanding her.

"Not like that!" she says. "Like a daughter or something."

Thinking about the cookie he gave me when I visited his shop, I think that her theory might have some weight. "Maybe. But we should both be getting ready. It's almost time."

"Ugh. Do you think Effie Trinket will say something different this year?"

"And mess with her routine? Please. I bet she's got one of those little books and has every minute of her life planned out."

Prim takes up the thread. "Oh you mean like 2:02pm walk up on stage. 2:03pm say 'May the odds be ever in your favor.' 2:04 say things you don't really mean and so on."

"I bet you're right," I say with a laugh. Effie Trinket is nothing if not predictable. "Come on let's get going."

"What about lunch?" she asks, looking pointedly at my stomach.

I grimace but go over to the bread and cut off the end of the darker loaf. "Fine, I'll eat you wash up and get dressed then you eat while it's my turn. That good enough for you?

"Yep!"

I eat my bread and a few berries from our excursion earlier in the day. My stomach is churning uncomfortably because I can't stop myself from thinking about the four slips with Prim's name on them. I've got twenty myself, but I can't help feeling like Prim should only have one. It makes me worry.

Prim comes back and I absently tuck the back of her shirt in. "You've got a tail sticking out, little duck."

She sticks her tongue out at me but leaves me to get ready. I see that my mother has laid out one of her old dresses for me. It probably once was the color of her namesake, the violet, but now it's faded to more of a periwinkle shade. That's fine with me, it's the fit that matters more and this dress is roomy enough that the unmistakable curve of my belly will be hidden. I appreciate the kindness. I haven't gone around announcing my pregnancy to the world, but the whispers and rumors have already started. I'd like to get through the Reaping before they become shouts.

Now dressed, I walk back out into the main room to find that my mother has joined Prim at the table. She's braiding my sister's hair and looks up at me with a tired smile. "That dress looks good on you."

"Thanks for putting it out for me," I reply.

She motions to one of the chairs with one hand. "Take a seat and I'll do your hair, we have time."

I nod and sit down next to my sister. My mother finishes with Prim's braids and starts in on my hair. I think about how dissimilar Prim and I look. My sister is fair-haired with blue eyes like my mother. Like most of the merchants in Twelve. Me, I have more of the Seam look. Black hair, grey eyes, olive skin. I look like my father and I know that hurts my mother, she still misses him even after all of these years. Part of me feels bad that I'm a reminder of what she's lost. But a bigger part of me wants her to be hurt, I'm still angry at her for abandoning Prim and me after our father died. She was present in body but not in any other way. It took an act of kindness and luck to keep us from starving before I turned twelve and could take out tesserae.

Thinking of acts of kindness, I mention the cookies that the baker sent home with me.

"Matz is a good man. Not as good as your father. But a good man," I can hear the smile in her voice. She knew the baker from before she married my father, I know. As the daughter of the town apothecary, my mother knew all of the merchant kids.

I nod and wince as my unconscious head motion yanks the comb through my hair. "He seems nice. Not like that shrew of a woman he married."

My mother makes a non-committal noise and continues styling my hair. After a few moments she pats the sides of my head and announces she is done. I check my features in the mirror and note that I look almost pretty with my hair done up in the intricate braids that my mother has plaited.

"Thank you," I say.

"You're welcome. Now we should get going."

I glance at the old wind up clock and notice it is one o'clock. Definitely time to go, we don't want a visit from the Peacekeepers later tonight. Unless you are dead or dying, all eligible children between the ages of twelve and eighteen must report to the designated meeting point which in District Twelve is the town square. If you don't, you and your family can be whipped, fined, or worse.

We get there and I help Prim go to the right line to check in before getting in line myself. I take my place in the line for the sixteen year olds watching Prim join the line for the twelve year olds. She has a little tail of shirt sticking out of her skirt and that makes me smile. Prim can never keep that tucked in no matter how hard she tries. It's one of the things that endears my sister to me. I want to go over there and tuck it back in before the Reaping but I know I don't have time.

The female Peacekeeper seated at the table calls out "Next" and I realize that I am at the head of the line. I step up and hold out my hand for them to prick my finger for the identity confirming blood drop. "Katniss Everdeen?" the Peacekeeper asks.

"That's me."

She glances down at the little screen in front of her. "Your blood is a little different than last year. Can you explain that?" I know she's asking if I've had someone take my place. It's been tried in the past with people using fake skin and little caches of blood underneath them. It never works.

I sigh and pull my mother's periwinkle dress flat against my stomach showing my baby bump to the woman. For a moment, she looks shocked then the features become sympathetic. It isn't normal to get pregnant girls going up to be Reaped. It isn't impossible but it is rare. The last time I know of it happening was about ten or so years ago. Most under eighteen kids celebrate after the Reaping, not before. I just have to be different, I guess.

"May the odds be in your favor, Katniss Everdeen," the woman says after a moment and I take the words for what they really are. A sincere wish that I won't get Reaped.

I join the rest of the waiting sixteen year olds and glance around. I can see Gale's tall figure standing out among the eighteen year old boys section and I crane my neck to see Prim. There she is, next to the florist's girl, Amaranth. She looks okay but worried. Who isn't?

I feel someone take my hand and give it a squeeze and I turn to see the mayor's daughter and one of my few friends, Madge Undersee. "Hey," I greet.

She's wearing an obviously new dress with a little gold mockingjay brooch pinned to one shoulder. "Hello. Fancy meeting you here," she jokes as if I'd be anywhere else.

"Likewise," I smile at her.

She continues in an exaggerated Capitol accent. "I mean I was shocked, I say, shocked, to see you here with all of the common rabble." She glances around at other girls who are for the most part giving the two of us a wide berth. A few Seam girls and Delly Cartwright who is the nicest girl ever aren't. But the rest of the merchants' daughters are staring at me as if I were something slimy that crawled out of a pond.

"I'm slumming it," I say in my best imitation of the Capitol accent and then let out a little laugh. Madge is a good friend, one of the few girls who didn't start to whisper when it became clearer that I was pregnant and not just putting on weight.

We've been eating lunch together at school for years now. Me the Seam outcast who no one likes and her the daughter of the mayor who everyone is a little afraid of. It was a friendship built out of loneliness.

The clock on the Justice Building strikes two and the square quiets down. The Mayor offers his arm to the District Twelve escort Effie Trinket as they walk up the steps and onto the constructed stage. The sound of her heels echoes through the square and I fight to keep my eyes forward on the stage. The Mayor escorts her to her chair and then walks up to the podium. Clearing his throat, he starts to read the history of Panem. It's the same story every year and I struggle to keep my focus. My bladder is starting to send out warning signals and I shift uncomfortably.

A disruption catches my eye on the edge of the stage and I see the lone living District Twelve winner of the Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy, stumble up onto it. He lurches to his chair and flops half on to it and half onto Effie Trinket. He flings his arms around her and tries to cuddle her to his chest like an overgrown stuffed animal while she attempts to fend him off. Finally she succeeds and he slumps into the chair limply and lets out a loud burp that is picked up by the microphones on stage and out into the square.

Effie Trinket gathers herself together and pats her wig which is now slightly askew and tiptoes up to the podium. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor." She babbles about inconsequential things while the rest of us in the square wait nervously for her to get to the selection. My eyes wander to the two glass bowls with their slips of paper in them. In there are four slips that read Primrose Everdeen and twenty that read my name, still it could be worse. I glance over to Gale and his eyes catch mine, he's got forty two slips in the boys' bowl. More than me. More than pretty much everyone else in the square. Still, there are thousands of slips.

Effie Trinket finally finishes her inane commentary because she says, "And now the moment you've all been waiting for. Ladies first!" She trots over to the glass ball with the girls' names in it and puts one gloved and ringed hand into the bowl and reaches around for a few seconds. She pulls out a slip and the air seems to still. I start chanting 'not Prim, not Prim, not Prim' in my head.

Effie Trinket minces back to the podium and opens the paper with a big flourish. In a clear voice, she reads the name and it's not Prim's.

It's mine.

* * *

**AN:**

Initially published on 11/3/2012. Revised 6/9/2013.

Betaread by RoseFyre.

I named Katniss' mom and Peeta's dad very deliberately. If you didn't guess, Katniss mom is named Violet. Violets are used in herbal medicine for various ailments including cough syrup, sore throats, skin conditions, urinary problems, and insect stings. Matz is short for Matzo/Matzah and is a kind of unleavened bread eaten by Jewish people during Passover. Because of the nature of this story, they needed names. Other 'unnamed' people will be getting names in this fic and there are going to be some OCs, they are necessary, but if I can use a canon character I will.


	4. Chapter Four - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Note: There are a few quotes that are taken from chapter two of the Hunger Games. Mostly Effie's lines.

Spectator

_**By Fanfic Allergy**_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

I stand there for a moment dumbstruck. I can feel the girls around me, except for Madge, start to pull away like I am a leper.

"Katniss Everdeen? Are you here?" Effie Trinket reads out again.

Madge presses closer to me, grabbing one of my hands and slipping something hard and cold into it. "You've got to go. You don't want to be dragged up not like Ember last year."

The reminder that the Peacekeepers will drag tributes up kicking and screaming is enough to galvanize me into action. I'm already going to be humiliated going up there, I don't want to completely ruin my chances for sponsors by crying and carrying on. After all, the Games isn't just about killing the other tributes it's about surviving the arena and survival is something I'm good at. Then reality sets in. Maybe I'd have had a chance if I weren't pregnant, but already I'm losing my agility and it's just going to get worse from here.

I walk slowly up to the stage. As I pass the twelve year old section, I hear Prim let out a pathetic, "No."

I shake my head at her warning her not to do anything stupid and continue walking. I mount the stage and note that the wind is blowing down through the square and on to it. I cross to where Effie Trinket is standing, tapping one foot impatiently.

"Ah here you are, my dear. Aren't you pretty?" she gushes. "Now stand over there, facing the crowd."

I do as I am told and the wind flattens the front of my dress up against me, outlining everything. My legs, breasts, everything.

"Oh! I see we have a bun in the oven," Effie Trinket coos. She bends down to babble at my stomach. "Maybe your Mommy will win the games and you will have everything you ever wanted."

I raise an eyebrow at the District Twelve escort like she is mad. How in the world does she think I'm going to win? I'm going to be lucky to make it past the bloodbath. I blink back tears. This is not how I wanted my life to go.

Effie Trinket straightens. "Well, the show must go on. Do we have any volunteers to take Miss Everdeen's place?"

The crowd is silent like it is every year. This doesn't surprise me. Not once in the history of the Hunger Games has there been a volunteer from District Twelve. I don't blame the people. They are just scared. So am I.

Then from near the front of the corralled children, a small voice calls out. "I volunteer as tribute."

My heart drops as I recognize the voice. The crowd seems to shift and move and I see my little sister walking forward with a determined look on her face.

"Prim, no! Don't!" I cry out but it's too late. She's said the words, there are no take backs in the Hunger Games.

Beside me, I hear Effie Trinket gasp and I know it's because of Prim's age. Even in other districts, twelve year olds never volunteer and there's a good reason for that. According to our history books, the youngest ever winner of the Hunger Games was Finnick Odair from District Four at the age of fourteen. No twelve or thirteen year olds have won, ever. They rarely make it to the final twelve. Now here is my baby sister volunteering to take my place knowing the odds are stacked against her.

Prim climbs up onto the stage, her head held high and her jaw clenched. I can see she's struggling to hold back tears and I am proud that she is able to do so. Don't let them see you cry, I think. Don't let them think you're weak.

She comes up to stand next to me facing out toward the crowd. I know it's my cue to get off of the stage.

Instead, I kneel down and enfold her in my arms. "You didn't have to do this, Prim. I would have been okay," I lie.

"No, you wouldn't," she says in a thick voice. "And I'm not just doing it for you. I'm doing it for the baby."

"I know," I whisper. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. But do me a favor."

"Of course."

"Punch Gale for me."

I manage to smile at her request and give her another hug. I hear Effie Trinket clear her throat behind me and I realize I am holding up the ceremony. I scramble down off of the stage and into my mother's arms. She's crying and for some reason I am unable to stop myself from joining her.

"What's your name?" Effie Trinket asks my little sister.

"Primrose Everdeen."

"Oh my. I bet that girl was your sister wasn't she?"

"Yes." Prim glances up at Effie an expression of incredulousness on her face.

I stop crying to snort at Effie Trinket's obviousness. Of course she's my sister, even though we don't look a thing alike. There aren't enough of us here in Twelve to have repeating names like they do in some of the larger districts. So if you find someone with a same last name it is pretty much a given that they are related in some way to anyone else with the same last name.

Effie Trinket continues on blithely. "I see, you must be rivals. Don't want her taking all of the glory." Prim gives her another look but manages to hold her tongue which is what Effie Trinket wanted anyway. "Ladies and Gentlemen I give you your female tribute. Primrose Everdeen!"

To my shock and approval no one claps. They know why Prim volunteered and it isn't because of any Capitol delusions of grandeur. They know she sacrificed herself so my baby and I could live. Simple as that. From around the square, I see a few people then more place their three fingers to their lips and then hold them up before them. It's an old salute of respect from District Twelve. From before the Dark Days. Possibly from before the Cataclysm that created Panem.

It's the most profound gesture of respect we can give and I force myself to not start crying again. I hate how the pregnancy hormones make me blubber like a baby at the slightest thing. I never used to get teary. Now three times in one day. It's embarrassing.

Effie Trinket looks nonplussed at the response for a few moments then recovers quickly. "Well, now it's time for the gentlemen." She minces over to the other glass bowl and sticks her hand in and swishes it around. She pulls out a slip and goes back to the podium. She opens it and smoothes the creases out of the paper.

"Peeta Mellark!" she reads and my heart drops for a second time.

Peeta is the son of the baker that is so nice to me and my family. And more than that, I owe him my life. I clench my hands tighter and feel the object that Madge gave me dig into my hand painfully.

I open my fist to see the gold mockingjay pin there. It's now dug an impression into my flesh and I can see the outline of the bird's wings in flight. I place the pin in my pocket to give back to my friend. I know she meant it for me for a good luck charm and I suppose it worked. I'm not going into the Games, but my sister is.

Peeta has made his way up on to the stage and I can see he's in shock but trying to keep it together. He's a merchant kid and probably only had five slips in there. The odds weren't in his favor either. He gets up to his spot and Effie Trinket asks for volunteers. He's got two older brothers and one of them, Bing I think, is too old to participate in the reaping. But his middle brother, Farl, is seventeen and could volunteer to take his younger brother's place.

But he doesn't and Effie Trinket introduces the two of them as District Twelve's tributes for the Seventy Fourth Annual Hunger Games. The mayor gets up to read the Treaty of Treason but is interrupted by Haymitch Abernathy realizing that something momentous has gone on around him.

"What's this? We got a brother and sister going into the Games?" he slurs out drunkenly. "Ain't none of you got any respect? What kind of sheep are you?" He points accusingly at the crowd. Then he turns and wildly gesticulates at Prim. "She's got honor. Volunteering for her knocked up sister. She's got honor! Not like any of you! Not like you!" he points at the cameras angrily and lurches forward, right off the edge of the stage.

A few Peacekeepers nudge him with the butts of their weapons, but Haymitch is knocked out cold. They shrug and go back to standing at attention.

It's almost laughable watching Haymitch Abernathy go off like that. I can see where people would be confused about Peeta and Prim. They do look alike, both blond, blue eyed, and fair skinned. But that is where the similarity ends. Prim is tiny, delicate like the flower she is named after. Peeta is stocky and solid. His arms bulge underneath his shirt. I know he's strong, he's the second best wrestler in the district after his brother. He's also able to pick up hundred pound bags of flour with ease. No, other than coloring, the two are nothing alike. Peeta stands a chance in the Arena. Prim doesn't.

Effie Trinket's mouth is pursed in annoyance. I know she is dying to get another district where the Victors aren't drunk, rambling, slobs. Where the tributes actually stand a chance. But she's the newest escort and thus low man on the ladder. She's got to wait for District Twelve to start doing well or someone to die before she can move up. Right now, I can tell she thinks it's going to be the latter.

The mayor clears his throat and starts to read the Treaty of Treason and I turn away with a mumbled apology to my mother. I need to find an outhouse or something. I look around and notice a small door leading into the Justice Building. It's the door they usher the tributes through every year. It's guarded, of course. But it's the same team of Peacekeepers that checked me in.

"No entry," the male one says gruffly. I can tell he's new because his uniform still has the white sheen to it. The longer term Peacekeepers have grayish uniforms thanks to all of the coal dust in the air.

The woman looks over at me. "What do you need, Katniss Everdeen?"

I glance at her and then shift uncomfortably trying to convey without words what I need.

Understanding lights her eyes and she nods. "Go on, girl. First door on the left." She opens the door for me.

"Wait a minute," her partner protests. "No visitors until after the ceremony."

The older woman rolls her eyes. "Boy, you ever been pregnant?"

"Of course not!" the man sputters.

"Then shut your gob. This girl here is about to piss her pants and unless you want her to do it right over your nice shiny boots you'd better stand aside."

"She should have thought of that earlier," he insists stubbornly, making a motion to pull the door closed.

The woman sighs and mutters under her breath, "Men!" She steps around him and pushes the door open wider. "Go on. I'll keep an on you and him. Make sure you aren't bothered and don't wander off."

"Thank you," I whisper and dart inside, I glance at her name tag: Phyllis Gneiss.

"I've been pregnant myself. Couldn't go ten minutes toward the end."

I grimace; just one more thing to look forward to. I nod to Peacekeeper Gneiss and go through the door. Once there, I sit down on the cold ceramic toilet and start to cry in earnest.

How am I going to get through this?

* * *

**AN:**

Initially Written 11/3/12

Revised 6/9/13

Betareader - RoseFyre

This is not one of my favorite chapters but I needed to get through it.

A few more previously unnamed characters got named. Namely Peeta's brothers. For those wondering, Bing is a kind of flatbread made in China and Farl is a kind of Irish flatbread. It goes along with Peeta's flatbread inspiration.

The Peacekeeper, Gneiss is my own creation, mostly because we only get three named ones in District Twelve ever. Gneiss is a metamorphic rock that is typically evolved from igneous rocks like granite and diorite. It is used in many kinds of construction in the same kind of way granite is. It is distinguishable from granite in that it has distinct bands on it. It is also pronounced like "Nice" which is me doing a horrible pun since Gneiss is the nice Peacekeeper. And now I'll stop boring you.

Reviews are the currency of fanfiction writers, they are the only payment we receive.


	5. Chapter Five - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_**By Fanfic Allergy**_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

I hear the anthem play through the walls of the Justice Building and finish up my business. I wash my face to clear off any tear tracks and vow that I will do no more crying today. It's a vow I hope I can keep.

I open the door and step back outside. A grateful nod to Peacekeeper Gneiss and as respectful of one to her partner. I know that as soon as the anthem finishes, the tributes will be taken into the Justice Building for the one hour they are allowed to have their family and friends say good bye to them. I don't plan to miss a second of my time with Prim.

The Peacekeepers hustle the tributes off of the stage and into the Justice Building. My mother, the Mellarks and I are held back for several minutes before we are finally waved into the building. Inside a Peacekeeper, Darius, asks us which tribute we are here to see. It's just a formality, he knows who each person is there to see. He's a regular of the Hob and one of the few Peacekeepers I don't really mind. He's cordial to us and unlike the head, Cray, doesn't take poor starving girls to his bed for the price of a loaf of bread.

My mother and I go into the richly decorated room that they are keeping Prim in and my sister flies into my arms. The vow I made earlier almost becomes undone but I manage to not start bawling. I hold Prim in my arms for several moments silently. Then I feel another pair of arms snake around the two of us. The three of us stand there for a long while just holding each other and not talking.

I feel my sister start to pull back so I let her go. She steps back and looks up at me. "Don't give me a lecture, Katniss, about how I shouldn't have volunteered. I'm not sorry I did it." Her eyes are defiant and she's jutted her jaw forward like she's ready for a fight.

I'm not going to give it to her. "I know you're not sorry. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't be sorry either. I just feel like this is all my fault."

"It's not!" Prim protests. "It's just bad luck, I mean why would the Capitol rig the election just to get you? They wouldn't." She pauses. "Besides. I still want you to punch Gale for me."

I can't keep my laugh in. The way she says it, all petulant and pouting, it reminds me of the old Prim and how she used to do that to get her way.

"I'll try. But in return, I want you to do something for me."

She looks over at me. "You'd better not say 'Win.'"

It was what I was going to say, but seeing the expression on her face I change the words at the last minute. "Make them love you. Make them regret sending you in there to die."

She knows that the 'them' I'm referring to is the Capitol even though I can't say it outright. For all I know, there are cameras watching us now. "I'll try," she echoes my words from earlier and I can see that she will. Prim is loveable. If anyone can do it, she can.

There's a knock at the door and my mother goes to answer it. Standing there with clear tear tracks down his cheeks is Mr. Mellark, the baker, Peeta's dad. He walks into the room with a nod to my mother.

Looking over to me and Prim he says, "He'd like to see you."

I'm confused for a moment thinking he means Prim. Why would he want to see her he's going to be seeing her on the train and in the Capitol, Then it hits me, he means me. "Why?" I blurt out.

He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. He just asked to see you. Would you, please?" I can see he's close to tears and I can't help but feel sorry for the man. He obviously loves his son and he knows that his son has about as much chance in the arena as Prim does, as anyone from Twelve does to be honest.

I nod and give Prim one last hug. "I love you," I whisper into her hair.

"Love you, too," she whispers back and I force back the tears that threaten again.

I pull away before the dam bursts and walk out into the hall. There's another set of Peacekeepers stationed by a door and I assume that is where Peeta is. They take my name and I knock on the door.

"Come in," a voice calls from the other side and I do.

Peeta Mellark is standing in the middle of the room watching the door expectantly. I can see a flash of something cross his face before he tamps it down into a more neutral expression. "Hi," he says.

"Hi," I reply, closing the door behind me.

He takes a step forward. "You came. I wasn't sure if you would."

I shift nervously by my place at the door and look down at my feet. "Well, your father asked me and I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything," he says emphatically.

My eyes fly to his. "Yes, I do!" I shout and the tears I've been holding back spill down my cheeks. "I owe you my life and now I can never pay it back." The guilt is eating me up inside and I feel sick.

He takes another step forward, his hands outstretched like he wants to give me a hug, then he seems to decide against it and takes a half step back. "Katniss, you don't owe me anything," he repeats. "I wanted to give you that bread."

My mouth drops open in surprise and I reach up to dry my tears. "You did that on purpose. Why?" I honestly want to know. I'd long suspected that he'd burned that bread on purpose, but now with him pretty much saying it I wanted, no, needed to understand why. He didn't know me, why would he help a starving girl out in the rain, getting beaten in the process.

He laughs and rubs the back of his head. "I would have thought it would be obvious. I guess not." He changes the subject before I can ask him what he means. "I'm going to make sure she comes home, Katniss," he says softly.

"What?" I can't believe what I'm hearing.

He straightens. "I'm going to make sure Prim comes home," Peeta says again. He catches my gaze and holds it. "I'll do everything I can to make sure that happens."

I'm confused and I know it shows on my face. "But that means..." I can't say the words. I can't grasp that Peeta is willing to throw his life away for Prim. I mean I would, but she's my sister. He barely knows us.

He smiles at me. "I'm okay with dying. I really am. So long as it is on my terms. And if my death means that I can send your sister home to you alive, then I'm happy."

"Thank you," I say in a whisper. I don't know what else to say. What do you say to the boy who saved your life when you were eleven and now is saying he's going to try to save your sister's? The words hardly seem adequate.

"I do have a favor to ask, though," he says. I can see the tips of his ears become flushed.

"What?" I can't keep the suspicion out of my voice.

"Do you think I could hug you? Just once?"

My brow wrinkles. It's not what I was expecting. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but that was not it. "I suppose?"

He crosses to me, opens his arms, and waits. I glance up at him and there's a patient but hopeful expression on his face. I can see that he's not going to force me into anything, that I'm going to have to be the one to make the final move. I appreciate that he's letting it be my choice.

I close the distance and slip my arms around him and his arms wrap around me. He rests his head against my shoulder and I can feel a few drops of wetness. My heart goes out to him. He's like Prim, trying to be brave and put on a good face, but deep down he's a scared kid being sent to the Capitol to die. I tighten my embrace and lightly stroke his back to try to comfort him. In that moment, it doesn't matter that we are virtual strangers. We both need this.

We stand like that for several minutes and I begin to get antsy. Peeta seems to sense this and pulls away. "Thank you."

"I should be the one thanking you." I remember Madge's pin in my pocket and I pull it out. "Here, take this. For your district token."

He shakes his head. "No, I can't."

"Please, let me give you something to make up for everything you've done for me and are going to do for Prim."

He takes the brooch and pins it onto his shirt. "Thank you. You didn't have to. You don't know just how much it means to me to see you before I go."

His words confuse me and he must see it on my face because he goes. "It's okay, Katniss. I don't expect you to understand."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Let's just say that for all that you're a brilliant hunter, you can be really unobservant at times."

I'm starting to get angry. "Look, I didn't come in here for this."

Peeta sighs. "I know you didn't. I just..." he trails off and looks at me for a few moments. He seems to come to a decision.

"You just what?"

He doesn't answer me but dips his head to give me a quick kiss on the mouth. It's short and soft and the whole thing confuses me. He pulls back. "I've been wanting to do that for ages."

But before I can get any words out to ask him what he means a Peacekeeper comes in and tells us that our time is up.

* * *

AN:

Initially Published 11/9/12

Revised 6/15/13

Betaread by Rosefyre,

A good part of this chapter I've had planned in my head from the moment I started thinking of this story back in March of 2012. Seriously months. Dreamed about it. Talked about it with friends. Obsessed over it. One guess as to what part. ^_^

Up next, Katniss makes a plan and the Tributes are introduced.

Please Review!


	6. Chapter Six - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_**By Fanfic Allergy**_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Prim and Peeta are escorted to a car containing Haymitch Abernathy and Effie Trinket to be taken to the train station. Knowing that this is the last time I am likely to see either of them alive, I wave with everything I have. I'm confused about Peeta's kiss and his comments. I'm worried about Prim, but more hopeful about her chances than I was an hour ago. I don't know if I should trust Peeta, again I barely know him, but something inside of me tells me that he was speaking the truth. He will do his best to protect my sister, even if it means sacrificing his own life.

When the car is no longer in sight, my mother and I start the long walk back to our house in the Seam. Mandatory Viewing is at seven and they will show all of the Reapings from across the country. Part of me wants to see who Prim's competition is going to be this year, but a larger part of me doesn't. I know that in order for Prim to come home, all of the rest of them are going to have to die.

We round the corner of a shop and I see Gale leaning against the faded green railing waiting. It's obvious that he is waiting for us because he straightens up when he sees us.

When we reach him, he steps over to us. "Mind if I borrow Katniss for a moment, Mrs. Everdeen?" he asks my mother.

My mother glances at me to see what I think and I shrug. "That's fine, Gale," she says. "Just make sure you get her home in time for supper."

"I will, ma'am."

My mother walks away, leaving me standing with Gale in the middle of the street. "What do you want, Gale?" My tone comes out harsher than I intended but I don't apologize.

"I was thinking, Katniss, that Prim's not going to get much in the way of sponsorship money."

"Tell me something I don't know," I snap. The Capitol never bets on the twelve year olds. They never win.

"Maybe we can do something about that," he pushes. "Everyone here loves Prim. Maybe we can gather up enough money to send her something."

"Like what?" I ask.

"Now don't take this the wrong way, but your sister isn't a killer."

"I know."

"So that means sending her a weapon is right out. She wouldn't do very well with it and it'd just get her killed. No, her best chance is to hide and try to outlast the rest of the contestants and to do that she's going to have to survive."

I begin to see where Gale is going with this. "Peeta said he'd protect her and make sure that she came home."

"Can you trust him, Catnip?"

I look up at Gale. "I think so, Gale. He said that he'd be willing to die for her, that he'd do anything to protect her. I don't think he'd lie about that, I mean, what would he have to gain?"

The same flash of something crosses Gale's face as crossed Peeta's face when I walked into that richly apportioned room less than an hour ago and I still don't know what it means. "No, he wouldn't have anything to gain. Nothing at all." Gale's voice sounds a little hollow. Then he seems to collect himself. "If he's willing to protect her, that makes our life easier. We just need to figure out what they need most and send it to them, preferably earlier in the Games before the prices go up too much."

I nod. "We should make a list and try to find out how much things will cost."

Gale shakes his head. "No, before we do that. We need to make money. Lots of it and fast. Do you have any?" he asks.

"A little. I was saving it for when the baby came."

He nods. "We can worry about that later. We've got time and I'll help you with baby expenses. You may not want to marry me, but I still want to be a part of our child's life."

"I know, Gale. I want you to be a part of it too. I just..."

"I know. Marriage isn't for you. I'm starting to get that now. You know what I thought when I heard your name called was how much I wished I could volunteer to take your place and then Prim went up and all I felt was relief. Relief that you weren't going to die and our child was going to be born."

I know where he's going with this. "But then you started to feel guilty."

"Yeah," he says with a nod. "While I was waiting for you, I began to understand what you were saying. Imagining what it had to be like for your mother, for the baker, to see their kids up there knowing that they likely are never going to come home. I don't want that for our child, Katniss."

"So what do you plan to do about it?" I ask.

"I don't know," he admits. "Right now, we need to focus on getting Prim home. Then we can figure out the rest."

I nod. "I should go," I say. "I'm hungry and I want to try to eat before Mandatory Viewing."

"I'll walk you home," he replies then looks me over. "I like your dress. You look really pretty in it."

"I look pregnant in it," I counter.

"Yeah, no hiding that. But you still look good. Although you should really eat more."

I sigh. "Everyone keeps saying that! What do they want me to do? Stuff my face constantly?"

"Probably," Gale agrees then changes the subject back to Prim. "What kind of Arena do you think they're going to have this year?"

"I think we can rule out snowfields," I reply. "After those Games a few years ago where everyone froze I don't think they'd do that again."

"We can probably rule out deserts for the same reason. Remember the Sixty Ninth Games? Most of the tributes that didn't die at the bloodbath died of dehydration."

"What's that leave us? Prairies, forests, mountains, swamps, caves, jungles, seasides, hills." I tick each of the options off on my fingers.

"Don't forget urban," Gale reminds me.

"I didn't," I retort. There are ruined cities from pre-Cataclysm days all over Panem. Most of them have crumbled into rubble but in a few you can see the remnants of the flourishing civilization that came before. "But they just used that last year. They aren't going to go back to the same type of Arena two years in a row."

Gale nods. "Good point. And by that token prairies are out too, since they did them the year before that. You know, they're probably going to do forests or jungles. Those are popular and they're easy to do. Most of the games are in forests or jungles with a little variety thrown in for good measure."

"Like the dam break in the Seventieth Games?"

"Like that. Speaking of how good of a swimmer is Prim?"

I think about it for a moment. Our father taught the two of us, but since he died when she was seven she didn't get much past the basics. "She can keep herself afloat," I answer. "But other than that, she's not that strong of a swimmer."

"Then we'd better hope that whatever Arena she's in isn't a water based one."

"Yeah."

We get to my home, and I can see my mother through the window making dinner. Good, she's not catatonic like she was after my father's death. I don't know if I could deal with that.

Gale gives me a quick hug. "We'll get her back, Catnip. I promise." Then he releases me to walk back to the house he shares with his mother and three younger siblings.

My mother greets me when I walk in and places a slice of bread in front of me. "Eat."

I do and find the simple task of chewing and swallowing to be a good foil for my racing thoughts. Gale was right, they likely were going to use a jungle or forest arena and that was good for Prim. She's small, she could climb trees easily and the trees would be able to hide her small frame. If by chance, she ended up in a forested Arena she stood an even better chance because of the little teaching I had been able to do with her. She could hunt, badly, but even better, she knew how to set snares. If the water source had fish in it, she might be able to make a net or something to catch fish. She knew plants better than I did, I had to admit, which would serve her well in the Arena. No, a forested Arena would be perfect if only we were so lucky.

I look up when my mother sets a bowl of fish stew in front of me and I realize that I have been sitting there for a while lost in thought. We eat in silence neither of us sure of what to say. That suits me just fine, what are we supposed to talk about? My mother gives me another slice of bread to dip into my stew and places the cookie with katniss flowers on it beside my plate.

Seeing the cookie reminds me of Peeta. What skills does he have? I know he's strong and he can wrestle. Both of those are good in the Arena, but does he know how to use weapons? Hunt? Build fires? I figure he likely knows how to do the latter considering he worked at a bakery, but the rest? He's a merchant kid and unlike the Careers in Districts One, Two, and Four he hasn't trained to be a deadly killing machine. Hopefully he'll be able to keep his promise to protect Prim but the odds aren't in his favor. The odds aren't in anyone's favor in the Arena.

We finish our dinner and clean up and I take the time to change out of my mother's dress. I likely will have to start wearing it or something like it in the near future as my stomach expands but for now I want the welcome familiarity of my own clothes. When I finish changing, I take care of any personal business. I finish just in time for the Reaping Recaps to start.

Right at seven, the old television flashes to life and Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith's faces appear on the screen.

"Happy Hunger Games," Caesar says with a smile. This year his hair and suit are blue. Last year they were mauve. I think the blue looks better on him.

"And may the odds be ever in your favor," Claudius says. He's fairly tame compared to Caesar, but the heavily made up face and riotous orange wig still proclaim louder than any words that he's from the Capitol.

"Let's get to the Reapings, shall we?" Caesar asks.

"Oh my, yes! I can hardly wait! I could positively piddle myself in anticipation."

"Well let's not keep you waiting!"

The banter annoys me, it's the same every year. Last year Claudius was quivering in his seat. I bet he doesn't know what it's like to really quiver.

The screen changes and the crest of District One comes up. Their Reaping is pretty standard for a Career district. Two names are called and then two people from the eighteen year old section volunteer. The boy, Marvel, is handsome as always. And the girl, Glimmer, is gorgeous. She looks familiar but it takes Caesar Flickerman to tell me why.

"Oh look! It's a legacy tribute. As most of you will remember, Glimmer here is the daughter of Striker Diamante, winner of the Fifty Third Hunger Games. "

"Oh yes! And what a Games those were, we can expect a lot from this little lady."

District Two is up next. The boys are drawn first and a great hulk of a boy charges forward to volunteer before the escort can even ask for volunteers.

"It looks like Cato Gladius is eager to get into the Games," Claudius comments.

"Indeed," Caesar agrees.

The girls are up next and a Clove Miner is called. Almost as one, the girls around her part to reveal a small girl for a Career district who is looking around in confusion. The Peacekeepers come forward to escort her up to the stage and she turns to stare accusingly at a red-headed girl in the eighteen year old section. The red-headed girl smirks and crosses her arms over her chest. It's clear to me that Clove wasn't supposed to be in the Games this year, that this other girl was supposed to volunteer, but something odd is going on. It doesn't become clear to me until they do a cut to the stage where Cato is standing there with a stricken expression on his face. He hides it quickly, but the damage is done. There is something up between him and Clove. Probably romantic if I had to guess and that didn't make Clove popular with the other female Careers. I can see where they might think Cato was handsome. I would too, if it weren't so obvious that he is eager for violence.

Thankfully Caesar and Claudius don't dawdle on them and move quickly on to District Three. Their tributes Radi and Axel are unremarkable. As are the volunteers from District Four, Coral and Reef. District Five stands out a little more. Only because of the female tribute, Uranium. She's got a sly pleased look on her face as she mounts the stairs almost like a fox who got into the henhouse. Her district partner, Coil, isn't much. District Six's tributes are also nothing much to talk about. When the girl, Grata, is called, she promptly bursts into tears and has to be dragged kicking and screaming onto the stage. The boy, Ford, is more stoic but it's clear that he's sure he's going to die because he's shaking the entire time he's on stage.

Caesar and Claudius have more to say about District Seven. Elm is seventeen, strong, and a definite threat. But Caesar and Claudius aren't able to stop talking about his district partner, Tacoma. Not only is she gorgeous with short blonde hair, but she's also clearly a powerful contender. Her muscles are clearly defined under the thin summer dress that she's wearing and she mounts the stage proudly with no tears in her eyes.

District Eight is one of those that they always seem to skim over. The tributes Taylor and Taylor aren't spectacular and Claudius opines that there always seems to be a Taylor every few years in the Games from District Eight. District Nine gets much the same treatment with Ceres and Jace barely getting any mention. The commentators dawdle a little longer on District Ten mostly because the boy, Clint, has a lame foot. No one likes it when someone with an obvious disability is reaped into the Games, least of all the Capitol. The girl, Piper, is unremarkable and the two hosts move quickly on to District Eleven. Here they pause because the two tributes are interesting for vastly different reasons. The girl, Rue, reminds me of Prim not just because of the obvious similarity in their age but also in their demeanor. I can see that Rue is struggling to be strong and to not give the Capitol any reason to doubt her ability. Then Claudius and Caesar get all excited about her district partner, Thresh, and I can see why. If Cato and Elm are big then Thresh is a mountain. He's easily the largest of all of the tributes and he towers over little Rue. I know that Thresh is another huge obstacle to Prim getting home. I can only hope that he is able to take out some of the Careers first before Peeta or someone kills him.

Then we get to District Twelve. I can tell right away that the producers have been building up to this not only because of the time left in Mandatory Viewing but also because Caesar and Claudius are barely able to contain their excitement. Unlike in the rest of the Districts where they just show the Reaping itself, here they are showing the whole event from Effie Trinket's attempt to stave off a drunken Haymitch Abernathy to the Mayor's stilted reading of Panem's history.

All of this is leading up to the big event, my name getting called, and when that happens I can see that all of the color drained from my face. I watch Madge take off her pin and slip it into my hand. I watch myself be escorted up onto the stage and the wind flatten my dress against my body, revealing my pregnancy to all of Panem.

"Oh my stars! A pregnant tribute! How exciting!" Claudius exclaims.

"Wait," Caesar cautions. "It gets better."

And to the Capitol's view it does. Effie Trinket asks for volunteers and Prim speaks up. The whole exchange between Effie and Prim is shown as is my and Prim's brief conversation on stage.

Then Caesar comes back. "Isn't that just lovely? Little Primrose Everdeen volunteering to take her sister's place. It's moments like this that make me realize just how much I love the Games."

"Indeed," Claudius agrees. "It's moments like this that just make me happy to be alive."

Hearing their heartless babble makes me sick, but I know that there is one more Reaping I have to get through before I can get away from the television and all of the disturbing images shown on it. They restart the film and Effie calls Peeta's name. On screen he comes off as even more solid and strong than in person and I can't help but think that is a good thing since he's got Marvel, Cato, Elm and Thresh all in the Games with him and competing for the sponsors who bet on those tributes who are obviously the strongest.

Caesar and Claudius comment that this year's tributes look to be a good crop and they can't wait to see them in action. The thought sickens me. That is all these children are to them, a moment's distraction.

Then there is the reminder to viewers that tomorrow is going to be the opening parade and ceremonies and that they will see us then during Mandatory Viewing for the event. The Flag of Panem splashes up and tonight's Mandatory Viewing is over.

My mother reaches over and turns off the screen as the rebroadcast of the Sixty Fifth Hunger Games comes on. She doesn't say anything but instead opens her arms to me.

I rush into them and another flood of tears erupts. Dammit, I never used to be this weepy. But I allow the moment of weakness for just right now.

I won't have time tomorrow. I'll need to stay focused on doing what I can to make enough money in order to save Prim.

* * *

**AN:**

Written 11/9/13

Revised 6/15/13

Part of this was planned out for ages. Part of it just came out as I was writing in November. The part that just came out was Gale and Katniss' conversation. I realized that I really needed to make sure I didn't accidentally start bashing Gale. He isn't a bad guy and in another time or place I could see him with Katniss. I will admit, I do like Katniss/Peeta better, but that is because I am schmalpy like that.

I had a long conversation with two of my friends about naming the tributes. One said I didn't need to, the other said I should. I decided to name them just to be on the safe side. I have a good reason for that. The reason is that the commentators would know the names and would be using them and this time Katniss is going to be paying closer attention because of Mandatory Viewings and her interest in her sister. That was one thing I didn't like in the book was that we didn't get names of those people who were clearly never going to survive or be important even though Katniss had no way of knowing that. The author did so we were in a sense spoiled for which characters were going to play a big part. She got better in the later books, but still there are tons of unnamed people out there. Anyway, most of the tributes names are puns as they are in the books.

**Tributes alternating Male/Female:**  
Marvel - One - Volunteered  
Glimmer - One - Volunteered  
Cato - Two - Volunteered  
Clove - Two  
Radi - Three  
Axel - Three  
Reef - Four - Volunteered  
Coral - Four - Volunteered  
Coil - Five  
Uranium - Five  
Ford - Six  
Grata - Six  
Elm - Seven  
Tacoma - Seven  
Taylor - Eight  
Taylor - Eight  
Jace - Nine  
Ceres - Nine  
Clint - Ten  
Piper - Ten  
Thresh - Eleven  
Rue - Eleven  
Peeta - Twelve  
Prim - Twelve - Volunteered

Up next, Katniss formulates a plan of action with Gale and watches the Tribute Parade.

Please Review!


	7. Chapter Seven - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

I wake up early the following morning before the sun even lights up the eastern horizon. This is good. I have a full day planned and don't want to waste any of it.

I go through my morning routine as I usually do and then slip out to the little fenced in area where Prim's goat, Lady, waits. She bleats at me pitifully. I offer her a few fresh sprigs of grass and then lead her over to the stool to milk her. It takes longer than I want because I'm not as good at coaxing the white liquid out of her as Prim is but I manage to get it all out eventually. I feed her some Queen Anne's Lace that Prim had gathered yesterday and carry the bucket back inside. My mother has already said she'll take over the cheese making duties while Prim is gone. Neither of us state that it is likely Prim is never coming back.

I carve off two thick slices of bread and stick them into the pocket of my hunting jacket. I gather up all of my hunting and gathering gear and set out for the woods. As I walk to the fence, I make a mental list of everything I need to do when I reach the other side. The mayor has a taste for strawberries and he pays well for them. So picking strawberries is definitely on my list. The head Peacekeeper, Cray, loves turkey he doesn't pay as well as some people do but with the sheer amount of poaching I am planning to be doing in the coming weeks I feel I should get on his good side.

I will need to see if I can still trade with the baker for squirrels considering his son is in the Arena with my sister. And maybe I can trade medicinal plants to the apothecary, I'll have to see. I also will need to start selling the meat and the pelts separately. I'll make more that way and I know that the furrier is always on the lookout for fox fur. The tanner will take deer hide and the butcher actually pays better for venison than the traders in the hob. But bringing down a deer means I'll need someone to help me haul it back.

I reach the fence and give a cursory listen to see if any electricity is running through it. It's clear and I clamber under the bottom wire. On the other side, I make a beeline to where I stashed my bow and run into Gale who's obviously waiting for me.

"Figured you'd be out early, Catnip," he greets.

"I need to be busy, Gale, otherwise I'm going to go mad."

"I feel the same way myself. I've already set a few snares that we can check on later. So what do you want to do first?"

"Set nets out to fish and then go looking for game," I say decisively. "Are the strawberries in the clearing ready?"

"I think so. Or they should be soon. Thinking of trading to the Mayor?"

"Yeah."

"Good plan."

We place a few nets across the stream in strategic places and as we are doing so, I am struck by an idea. "Gale," I raise my voice in order to be heard over the stream. "How much do you think twine is going to be in the Arena?"

"You mean like a full spool?" he asks.

"Yeah."

He considers it. "It wouldn't be considered as expensive as a weapon or food, but she could make snares out of it. She knows how to set snares, right?"

"I've shown her a few basic ones. They aren't as good as yours, but they'll do an okay job," I reply.

"She can also use it to hold any items together assuming she doesn't get a pack," Gale added.

"She can also make a net out of it. That's what made me think of it. She made these nets we're using," I say, shaking one for emphasis.

Gale looks at me solemnly. "Nets can also be used as a weapon. If she's able to do it, she can use a net to trap or tangle up a bigger tribute and then go in for the kill. That's what a lot of the tributes from Four do."

I nod. "I don't think Prim would be willing to do that, but maybe Peeta would. I was also thinking that she could use the nets for camouflage like we do for blinds in the fall."

"It's definitely not a bad idea. We'll have to find out how much it costs, though."

"How would we even find that out?" I ask. "It's not like they have a catalog of this is how much everything costs in the Arena."

Gale laughed. "Actually, they probably do. If not, we can go to the Mayor and ask to use his phone. I know that some of the Peacekeepers here place bets on the Games with actual Capitol bookies. So I bet Cray's got a phone too. One of them should let us use the phone if we give them enough incentive."

I think about Cray and his habit of sleeping with desperate Seam girls and suppress a shudder. "Let's try the Mayor first."

"You're friends with his daughter, right? That should help."

"Yeah," I agree and we finish placing the nets.

Then it's time to hunt. Gale spots a deer trail early on and motions for me to follow him. We track the animal for about an hour without any luck so we decide to head back. Along the way, I pick off any squirrels that are stupid enough to chitter at me. They may not trade for much if I can't sell them to the baker, but every little bit will help.

Gale spots something up ahead and motions for me to stop. I squint my eyes to try to make out what he's seeing. I don't see any movement that would indicate an animal and the birds haven't stopped singing, which is typically a sign that there's danger.

"Gale..."

He frantically motions for me to shush and slowly starts to back up, never taking his eyes off of whatever is in front of him. When he reaches my side, he points toward the ground and I can faintly make out movement there.

Gale only says two words. "Tracker jackers."

I feel my stomach clench. The insects are a muttation created by the Capitol to keep the Districts in line and in fear. They look like normal wasps but once someone disturbs their nest, they will pursue whatever or whoever that is aggressively. I've never been stung, but a few people who visit the Hob have. They talk of horrible hallucinations and massive pain from the stings. Occasionally a nest will be found within the walls of District Twelve and the Peacekeepers will have to use a flamethrower to take it out. They're meant to keep people within the fence.

Gale and I slowly edge away from the nest and once we are far enough away to feel safe, Gale speaks, "Dammit! I hate those things and the Capitol for putting them here."

"I thought they only lived in trees."

Gale shakes his head. "They're like regular wasps in that sense. They'll make their nests anywhere in trees, houses, caves, or even in the damned ground. It's why they're so deadly. You never know where to look for them."

"Good thing you spotted them, huh?"

"I almost didn't," he admits. "If we'd stepped on them..." His eyes drop to my stomach.

"But we didn't," I soothe. "Let's go to the clearing and get the strawberries now. I don't much feel like hunting right now."

"I bet that's the first time you've said that!" Gale says with a laugh.

"It probably is."

We spend a few hours scouring the clearing for strawberries and I manage to scrounge a few other edible wild plants. Mostly wild carrot, ramps, and clover. But I even manage to find a few chicken of the woods mushrooms growing on a dead tree on the edge of the clearing. I pick a few wintergreen leaves for my mother, reminding myself to check with the apothecary in town to see if there are any wild plants that I can sell to him.

After we finish, we make a circuit of all of Gale's snares which net us four more rabbits. We walk back to the stream, not bothering to quiet our footsteps to see if we startle any game birds. Our tactic pays off with two turkeys who hear us coming and run right across our path.

Back at the stream, we also have good luck: eight large trout, three small carp, and one large catfish. This is good. That means I can let Gale keep the rabbits and sell the fish instead. While I can't sell the pelts, I know the butcher will pay well for the trout. The carp and the catfish I'll take home with me while I'll sell the squirrels and turkeys.

"A good haul," Gale comments.

"I'm glad. I was afraid after the tracker jackers that we wouldn't be able to get anything." I look up from our catch at him. "I don't know how much I'll be able to hunt once the Games start."

"I understand. You're going to want to stock up."

"Yeah."

"Well, why don't we do this again tomorrow. Same time?"

I smile at him. It's almost like old times. "Same time."

We slip back under the fence and I take the items that I am keeping home first. I turn them over to my mother and repack my bag for trading.

My first stop is the butcher. She's pleased to see me and asks to see what I have in the pouch. She immediately seizes on the trout like I thought she would. She also wants one of the turkeys. Good poultry is hard to find in District Twelve. Most chickens are kept for their eggs and when they are eventually killed, their meat is tough and stringy. The turkeys I have are young and their meat tender. I barter hard and the butcher seems to sense this because she stops me partway through.

"Why are you pushing so hard?" she asks bluntly.

I scrutinize her expression, it is kind not angry or annoyed like I feared so I decide to take a chance and tell her the truth. "It's for Prim. I'm trying to get enough to help her in the Arena."

"Your sister, right? The one who got the goat," she says referring to Lady.

I nod.

The woman makes a noise under her breath. "I can give you thirty for the lot. And if you have good quality fish or game you come to me first and I'll give you better than what they can at the Hob for the duration of the Games. You hear me?"

I do hear her. She's basically said that she's going to help me save Prim. As much as she can and it isn't going to come cheap. But the butcher can pay in coin and many of the merchants in the Hob can't. And coin is what I need. "Done!" I say and we shake on it.

She eyes the second turkey and I feel compelled to tell her it's for Cray. She nods her head in understanding. I've got to stay on the Peacekeeper's good side and the turkey will go a long way to doing that.

She pays me and I stop at the Mayor's house next. As I expected, Madge answers the door. School isn't in session during the Games and she doesn't have a lot of friends.

"Katniss!" she says with a smile. "I'm surprised to see you."

"I've got strawberries," I answer hoping she'll understand and drop it. I don't want to talk about the Reaping, that's in the past and I can't change it.

She does and motions for me to come in. "Father's on a call with the Capitol right now. But he'll be with you as soon as he's done."

That comment reminds me of something. "Do you think I could use your phone during the Games? Make a sponsorship donation?"

Madge frowns. "Those normally go through the Justice Building but I suppose you could if you needed to talk to Haymitch directly."

I didn't know that, but I suppose that I should have guessed. The Justice Building houses a bunch of different departments, Hunger Games Sponsorship would likely be one of them. "I probably will want to talk to Haymitch directly. After the bloodbath, I'm going to want to send Prim something pretty specific."

"Oh?"

"I'll tell you later. But do you know if there's a pricing catalog? I want to know how much things will be so I know how much I need to save."

Madge thinks for a moment. "They usually put one out after the opening ceremonies. It's pretty general, they don't want to release it too early."

I know why they don't, those people in the districts who have access to it would be able to deduce what kind of Arena it will be from the items offered and be able to plan accordingly. It wouldn't matter so much in Twelve but in the Career districts it would make a huge difference. "Then can I come by tonight to take a look at it?"

"I don't see why not. Why don't you and your mother just come here for Mandatory Viewing? It'd be easier."

I'm not sure that I want to watch the ceremonies with the Mayor and his wife, but it would be a lot easier to get my hands on that catalog if I were already here. "I'll check with my mother."

"Fair enough."

"Who's here, Madge?" the Mayor's voice calls down from his office upstairs.

"It's Katniss, Father! And she's brought strawberries," Madge shouts back up.

The Mayor's voice is clearer and I look up to see he's now at the top of the stairs. "Well, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Madge shrugs. "You were on the phone. I didn't want to bother you."

"It's never a bother when there are strawberries involved," her father retorts. He turns to me. "So how many did you get?"

I pull the bundle of berries out and open it for him to look into. There is maybe a good size bowl of the small fruits and the Mayor looks very pleased. "These look wonderful! Same price as last time?"

The Mayor normally pays me five coin per bowl. I could haggle with him, but again I don't. "Agreed, I can get more for you if you want?"

He looks up sharply at me. He must have heard something in my voice. "I wouldn't say no to more. But I don't want you to go to any trouble." He enunciates his words clearly and I get the impression that he's trying to tell me something although I am not sure what.

"It's no trouble, sir. And thank you for the coin," I pause for a moment. "Do you think I could look at the sponsorship catalog after the ceremonies tonight?"

If anything, his gaze becomes sharper. "Ah, I see. Of course you can, and if I can make a suggestion, why don't you and your mother watch the ceremonies with us? And have your mother bring some of that headache tea that she makes. I'm sure that Maribelle will be happy to see her and it." Maribelle is the Mayor's wife and it's well known in the district that she suffers from horrible migraines.

"I already invited her, Father," Madge says.

"Did you, now? That's a good girl. So we'll see you a little before seven then?"

Not wanting to offend the Mayor, I nod.

He hands me the coins and I nod my head gratefully. Madge walks me to the door. "You know, I could help."

I look at her, merchant, dressed in new clothes with no dirt or darnings to mar the fabric and I shake my head. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't think so."

"No, I don't think you get it. People like Prim, really like her, I'm sure people would be willing to pitch in a coin here or there if they thought it would help her in the Arena. You don't have to do this all yourself."

"I don't take charity," I say flatly.

"It's not charity if people give it to you, or rather to Prim, freely. Besides, that's why you have me. I'm going to do the asking. I can say it's my idea, which it is, and you had nothing to do with it, which you won't."

I'm torn. Part of me balks at the very thought, even with Madge's semantics it's still charity. But then I think of Prim, every little bit will help and if Madge can get money out of people who wouldn't give me the time of day then more power to her. Finally I give Madge a small nod.

She smiles at me brightly. "Great! I'll start today while memories of her volunteering are still fresh in everyone's minds."

"I don't want to hear about it," I say.

"Do you want to know the names of the people who help?" she asks seriously.

Do I want to know who I'm going to owe? Not really. But I nod again. I don't like having unpaid debts and right now I have two big red ones that I owe Peeta Mellark. I wish I'd paid off the first one but even the gift of Madge's pin isn't enough. I don't know what will wipe the ledger clean.

My next stop is Cray's house. The Head Peacekeeper is pleased to see the turkey and pays me ten coin for it, less than I got from the butcher. I'm fairly up front about the fact that I am going to be going out under the fence, not actually saying the words but implying it. I'm not stupid.

Cray nods. "It's really interesting what kind of critters can get under the fence in the meadow. If only we didn't have the shortages that we do."

"Yeah, it is too bad about the shortages. Prim used to worry about mutts or wild dogs getting into the meadow and killing our goat while it grazed."

Cray sighs theatrically. "That is a worry. You're taking care of your sister's goat while she's gone?"

I nod.

"Thought so. I'll let you know when the fence'll be on so that you can let that goat graze in the meadow without fear and you'll keep me first in your mind if you happen on anymore of these stray birds."

It's a good solution and I agree to it.

I leave the Head Peacekeeper's house and head over to the Mellark bakery. I peek through front window to see who's working the register and who's in the back. Like I suspected, Mrs. Mellark is working up front with one of Peeta's brothers. Which means that Mr. Mellark is likely in the back.

I slip around the building and into the alley behind the stores. I knock on the back door shifting back and forth from one foot to the other waiting for someone to answer. My stomach drops when the door opens and it's Farl, Peeta's seventeen year old brother. His eyes are red, like he's been crying, but I don't see any tear tracks. He glowers at me and steps back inside and shuts the door.

It couldn't be any clearer. I'm not welcome here. I swallow my disappointment and walk away from town and toward the Hob. I'm not surprised, I'm not sure I'd welcome their family. In fact if I'm honest with myself, I know I wouldn't. Maybe after the Games. Maybe. If neither of our loved ones come home. Maybe then.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't immediately register that the door to the bakery has opened again and someone is calling my name. It isn't until what has to be the second or third calling, that I realize that the baker is chasing after me down the street.

"Katniss wait!" he cries and I halt. He trots up to me and stops a few feet away from me, puffing heavily. "You don't understand."

"It's okay, you don't have to explain," I say.

He shakes his head. "I do. Farl, he's blaming himself."

I hold my tongue to keep from saying that Farl should blame himself. Peeta is his younger brother, if it'd been Prim's name called I know I would have volunteered. The fact that Farl didn't, doesn't win him any points in my book.

The baker continues on. "I didn't tell them what Peeta told me. I know he's not planning on coming home, that he's going to protect your little sister. I didn't tell them."

I look up at the baker in surprise. "Peeta told you that?"

The baker smiles at me. "He's my son," he says in a thick voice as if that explains everything. "He didn't want to give me false hope. He told me that he was going to stick by your sister until the very end. Keep her safe. Make sure she comes home. He's a good boy. He won't go back on his word."

I nod, not sure what to say. I hope what he says is the truth, but I'm not really sure why he's telling me this. "Um, I've got some squirrels," I say it slowly, hesitantly. "I don't know if you're interested..."

He throws back his head and laughs which confuses me even more.

"I didn't mean to bother you," I nervously continue while watching him chortle to himself.

"No, you aren't bothering me," he waves me off. "So you're here to trade. For coin, I am guessing."

I nod. "It's not that I don't want bread but..."

"They won't take that in the Arena," he finishes. "I understand. You know, I think we can help each other. My son's going to be with your sister, right?"

I nod hesitantly.

"Then, whatever you send her will help him out at least for a while."

"I don't want to take away anything you might send for Peeta."

He gives me a sad smile. "I wasn't going to send Peeta anything. I know my boy, when he makes up his mind it's made. All of the sponsorship gifts in the world won't change that. And since there can only be one winner..." He shrugs.

"I'm sorry," it seems like a really inadequate thing to say to someone.

"It's not your fault. It's just the way it is. So come back to the bakery with me and we'll see these squirrels of yours."

I follow him back and when I enter the back room, Farl glowers at me again and promptly leaves. I guess he blames me for his brother's decision although I'm still not sure why Peeta made it. He probably blames Prim too, I'm just an easier target.

The baker motions for me to sit on a stool and hands me a roll. It's still warm from the ovens and has herbs and cheese baked into it. This kind of roll is my favorite and my father used to buy me one for my birthday every year up until he died. I haven't had one since and so I savor the treat. I pull out the squirrels and show them to Mr. Mellark to look over. There are five of them, ranging in size from small to medium large. He picks out the two largest and puts the rest away.

"I can only take two today," he says regretfully. "And I can only pay you three coin total for them."

It's a little less than what two loaves are worth and I raise my eyebrow at him.

He smiles sadly. "I tell my wife I give you stale bread. If it doesn't go out into the shop, she doesn't know. She's in charge of the cashbox. "

"Oh."

"I can give you some day-old rolls to make up for it."

"You don't have to."

He shrugs. "They won't sell anyway. And I'd rather have squirrel than old bread for dinner."

I agree to the trade and he slips up front to get the coins. I hear him talking with his wife and her voice disagreeing with whatever it is that he is saying. She isn't exactly quiet with her disdain. I know that she thinks that he's probably paying too much and I agree in theory. But I am not going to argue when the trade is in my favor.

He returns with a bag of rolls and the coins. I accept them with a little nod of thanks. He's a kind man. "Do you want me to come again tomorrow?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No. Day after should be okay. But I can't afford good squirrel meat every day."

I understand. His wife won't let him buy more often than that. I know that Sae'll take squirrel but not many other traders will. It's going to limit how much I can trade.

I finish up at the Hob and as I expected, Sae takes the remaining squirrels off of my hands. She doesn't even say anything when I hand her the skinned carcasses instead of the fully furred ones. She understands that for the time being I need every coin I can get. The Hob tanner also understands. Squirrel tails make good trimming and fur is warm no matter what animal it comes from. So I get a few more chits from him. It isn't a lot but over all today I've made forty coin. Not a bad haul although I know I have to do better.

I return home and find my mother waiting for me. She's got dinner ready and I inform her that we are going to the Mayor's house for Mandatory Viewing and the Mayor would like her to bring her headache remedy tea.

We finish the rest of our meal in silence, my mother spooning more stew into my bowl even though I am no longer hungry. I feed Buttercup a few flakes of fish under the table when she isn't looking. He takes the food grudgingly. I'm not his mistress and he is not sure of this but food is food. He's as much a Seam brat as I am.

A little before seven, finds us standing outside of the Mayor's house. Madge answers the door again and shows us inside to the parlor and its large screen. We take our seats and the maid comes out with tea and little strawberry tarts. I look at the Mayor in askance before taking one. They are sweet and delicious and I tell them so.

"It's your strawberries. They make all of the difference."

Thankfully, I am saved by the screen flickering on and Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith's garish Capitol faces filling the space.

"Greetings Panem, it's almost time!" Caesar starts and I know we are in for a lame joke.

"Time for me to get a new hairdo?"

"It's always time for that, Claudius. But no, it's almost time for the Tribute parade to start. In just a few short moments we will be introduced to the twenty four tributes in this year's games. And frankly, I can't wait."

"Any early favorites?" Claudius asks.

"Well, I will say I have my eye on a few. But I'm really waiting until I get to interview them later in the week to make up my mind."

"Oh! And it looks like the parade is about to get underway!"

There is a flurry of commotion as the cameras zoom in on the Remake Center's doors. Then there is a loud fanfare and the anthem of Panem starts playing. Caesar and Claudius 'ooohhh' and 'aaahhh' over the tributes' costumes but really they are the same trite stuff every year. District One is shiny and sparkly, District Two is martial, District Four is nautical and every year for as long as I can remember, District Seven has been a tree.

Even Caesar and Claudius note that. "Up next is District Seven. I wonder what kind of tree they'll be this year!"

"Well my notes say that they are representing the mighty larch."

"The larch? What kind of tree is that?" Claudius asks.

Caesar gives a wink to the camera. "Well we are about to find out."

The costumes don't look any different from the ones last year and if last year's tributes from Seven hadn't been a pair of scared twelve year olds I would have guessed that the stylist reused them. The rest of the tributes are equally uninspiring and I feel a twinge of pity for the kids from District Ten who are dressed up as anatomically correct cattle.

Then District Twelve comes out of the tunnel and my breath catches in my throat. They are on fire and I mean that literally. I was expecting the typical coal miner costume, but this is just something else. Both Peeta and Prim wave at the crowd and the crowd shouts and waves back.

Then Peeta does something unexpected, he lifts my little sister up onto his shoulder. Prim takes advantage of this and spreads her arms out wide, her fire cape fluttering behind her. The crowd goes even more wild than they were before and Caesar and Claudius are exclaiming to each other excitedly.

"Did you see that?" Claudius asks rhetorically. "He just picked her up like she weighed nothing."

"And did you see what an amazing pair they made? So handsome, they almost look like siblings."

"I can't wait to see their scores!" Claudius gushes. "Especially Peeta Mellark's; he's definitely a tribute to watch this year."

"I can't wait to interview them," Caesar counters.

"I'm jealous! What I wouldn't give to talk to a pair of tributes like that."

Caesar and Claudius babble on about Peeta and Prim for the rest of the time that the Parade takes to get to the center of the Capitol. It's a good thing. The more publicity a tribute gets the more sponsors they are likely to get. The combination of the costumes and Peeta's stunt are sure to earn them a few.

They pull up into a semicircle in the Capitol Center in front of the President's Mansion and President Snow comes out. He waves at the crowd and turns to survey the tributes coldly. I can see him sizing them up and determining who is going to be a factor in the Arena. It's chilling.

He begins to speak, giving a long speech that boils down to 'for those about to die for our amusement and show of the power we have over your lives we salute you.' It's the same speech he gives every year, the words may change but the meaning never does.

President Snow finishes his speech and the chariots return to the makeover center, the Capitol crowds screaming out their support the whole way. Caesar and Claudius say their goodbyes and the screen changes to a rerun of yesterday's Reapings. The Mayor flicks it off and we sit in silence for a few moments.

I think of the Capitol's reaction to Prim and Peeta. It is better than I could have hoped but still my stomach churns anxiously. The tributes are nothing more than a moment's fancy to the Capitol. They aren't people. They're game pieces.

It sickens me.

* * *

AN:

Written November 2012  
Revised June, 18 2013

Long chapter. It sets up a lot of things. Still long chapter.

I figured that one coin is equal to one dollar. And that food prices are close to what they are today, but considering the level of poverty, that most people can't afford those prices.

Up next, Katniss finds out just how expensive the Games really are and learns just how highly the Gamemakers think of her sister.

Please Review!


	8. Chapter Eight - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

The Mayor looks over at me from his seat on the couch. "Do you want to look at the Games Sponsorship Catalog now?" he asks.

I nod my head. It's the only reason why I am here, honestly. Otherwise I'd rather be in my own home where I can react however I want and only my mother can see.

He walks upstairs and Madge turns to me. "They looked good, Katniss."

I nod my head again.

"Peeta did a good thing by putting her up on his shoulders," Madge continues.

"He drew attention to himself," I state flatly.

"But he also drew attention to Prim. The announcers and Capitol were always going to notice the 'Boy on Fire' but by lifting Prim up he made sure that she got to share his spotlight. It was smart. Real smart."

"I suppose."

"Katniss, you know that the odds aren't in Prim's favor. Anything that can get her sponsors is a good thing. I just hope that her training score is better than a three. "

I give Madge a stricken look. "I know. I started to show her how to hunt, but she's not very good at it."

Madge understands. "Then let's hope that she can do something to impress the Gamemakers."

The Mayor returns and hands me a thick book about two inches wide. "There you go," he says.

I take it. It's surprisingly heavy and my arm wobbles a little under the weight. "What part is the catalog?" I ask.

"That is the catalog," he responds.

My mind boggles. "The whole thing? How am I going to find what I want in here?"

The Mayor looks at me sympathetically. "There's an index and it's organized into sections."

"Okay," I say with a nod.

I open the book and read the introduction which explains how sponsorship works. You can take the easy option and just donate funds for the specific tribute and leave it up to the mentor what they receive or you can buy a specific item. For specific items, the base price is what is listed in this book. However, after the first day, the prices start to go up. Ten percent for each tribute death after the first day and ten percent each day that follows after the first day. And the percentages are cumulative. So something that cost one hundred coin on the first day would cost two hundred and thirty six coin on day ten, assuming no tributes died. The math alone is enough to give me a headache.

The Mayor was right, the catalog is organized into categories. Weapons, Food, Water, Survival Gear, and Miscellaneous. I almost completely skip the weapons section, except a sense of morbid curiosity makes me stop. I flip to the end and find the trident section. My eyes about fall out of their sockets, the cheapest trident in the catalog is three hundred thousand coin and from what I remember, Finnick's trident wasn't a bare bones trident. Not to mention he got it later in the Games so that upped the price even more. If I had to guess, it was likely over one million coin. I can't imagine having enough money that I could throw away one million coin on the Games. It makes me sick.

I quickly flip back to survival gear and am pleased to see both a general list ordered by price and another list arranged alphabetically. The cheapest item is a single wooden match costing fifty coin, the most expensive is a fully stocked backpack with water purification kit, bedroll, string, flint and steel, rope, and waterproof covering at twenty thousand coin.

Scanning the list, I find what I am looking for spools of string, and I flip to the corresponding pages that have all of the various options. There is everything from baling twine to soft cotton string in varying lengths. The cheapest is one hundred feet of baling twine and the most expensive is two thousand feet of cotton string. One hundred feet sounds like a lot, but it really isn't when it comes to setting snares and making nets. So I rule that one out, not to mention baling twine is really rough on the fingers. The ideal gift would be between five hundred and one thousand feet and cotton so I look that up. There's a spool that isn't too big with strands that aren't too big that catches my eye. It's small, portable and most importantly holds seven hundred and twenty five feet worth of the stuff.

Then I look at the price and I feel my stomach drop. Three hundred and fifty coin. For string. For something that I could buy new in the general merchandise shop for three coin. I knew that the prices of gifts in the Games were inflated, I just didn't think it'd be that much.

I thank the Mayor and I hand the book back to him. My mother and I should be going and I need to be up early to hunt so I can try to save up enough. I've got a little over sixty coin already. More than most people make in a month in the Seam. I've got to make another three hundred within the next few days.

I don't dare wait to buy things later in the Games. There is no way I'd make enough. And if I send money to Haymitch, I might as well piss it away entirely. He's never brought any of the tributes back from Twelve alive and he's hardly ever sober. No, I can't count on Haymitch to save my sister.

With that thought in mind, my mother and I say our goodbyes to the Mayor and his family.

The next few days I spend almost completely in the woods hunting and gathering with Gale. What I can sell I do for whatever coin I can get. What I can't sell, I trade for things I'll need during the Games. Mandatory Viewing only shows the highlights of the day or a special Gamemaker planned event like a feast. The rest of the time, the games run constantly. I already know that I won't be able to tear myself away while Prim is still alive. I can sleep and hunt when she's dead. Until then, I will be keeping watch.

Gale and I capture and trade all kinds of small game. But they only bring in pitiful coin for trade and we start to run into another issue. The townsfolk are running out of money.

Twelve is a poor district. Possibly the poorest in all of Panem. Coin just doesn't flow freely here. We're mostly a barter society and this is especially true in the Seam. Most of the coin in the district is actually spent by the Peacekeepers from their salaries along with those townsfolk lucky enough to have a government job. There just isn't enough for me to get without some kind of help.

Madge is trying. She's managed to raise twenty coin from various people around town who couldn't or wouldn't trade with me. But the ones with the money, the Peacekeepers, aren't willing to throw away their coin on a girl that is almost certain to come home in a box.

I'm starting to become desperate.

A small stroke of luck hits when Gale and I manage to track and kill a good sized doe and her fawn. I almost feel bad for the animals but brush it aside. I can't feel pity for them, they are going to be a good portion of the funds I send to Prim. The fawn especially since that is a rare and very tender meat.

Gale and I field dress the animal and drag it to the woods at the edge of the fence. There we run into our first real obstacle. How do you get a close to two hundred pound animal and its dead offspring under the fence and to safety without attracting the wrong kind of attention?

After talking it over for a few minutes, Gale and I decide to take the fawn field dressed only to the butcher and then invite her and her cart back to the Meadow where we can haggle for the rest of the price. We also decide to keep the organ meat for ourselves and our family. Normally a haul like this would be smoked, dried and cured for the coming winter. We are missing out on a lot by trading this catch away.

I slip under the fence, carrying the fawn in my hunting bag, and make a beeline for town and the butcher. When I slip into the shop, she looks up at me and nods. She doesn't dare say anymore since the customer at the counter is a Peacekeeper and one I don't know to boot. I make a show of studying the sausages and hams hanging from the ceiling and wait for the butcher to finish ringing him up. It's only a few minutes but it feels like agony. I don't dare leave, that would be too suspicious and I am worried about him noticing my bulging bag. So I do my best to stay out of the way and out of his sight.

Thankfully he doesn't seem inclined to linger over making his purchases and hands over his coin and leaves. The butcher eyes me and slips to the front door and flips over the closed sign. Then she motions me to the back room, no point taking a chance of someone looking in the window.

I pull out the fawn and the butcher gets very excited. "Is that what I think it is?"

"A milk fed fawn," I reply. "About twenty pounds of him."

"We haven't had milk fed anything in a long while," she replies. She's right, most of the meat that we get is older, stringier. Most of the meat from District Ten goes to the Capitol, the rest of the districts have to make do with the gristle and the leftovers. The butcher here in Twelve actually keeps most of the animals she sells: pigs and chickens mostly but occasionally she'll get a cow, goat, or sheep to sell. But that's rarer. So I know that my deer will be well received.

"We also got his mother," I add. "But we'll need your cart to bring her back to town."

The woman nods. "I understand. Let me get it and a canvas to cover it and we'll go. Do you want to leave the fawn here?"

"We should," I reply.

"That is what I was thinking."

She gets her things and locks up the store and we set off to the Meadow. Along the way, she asks me how my fundraising is going for Prim.

"Not as good as I'd like," I answer. "I'm still about one hundred coin short."

The butcher purses her lips. "I can't give you that much," she warns. "But let me look at the mother and I'll see what I can do."

We walk to the Meadow and thankfully no one gives us a second glance. At the fence, the butcher ducks down underneath it like she's familiar with the thing. I give her a look.

She returns it. "What did you expect I'd do when your father got a deer? Can't rightly haul one through town on his shoulders now."

I nod. I hadn't really thought about it but it makes sense.

The butcher surveys our kill and then looks at Gale and me. "I can give you seventy five for the doe and fifteen for the fawn."

It's lower than I'd hoped, but I can understand why. The butcher only has so much coin and she's still got to have enough to do business. She can't give me more than she can sell.

I nod and we shake hands. "I'll bring the money by later," she tells me.

I frown but I nod again. I can imagine that she wouldn't have that much coin on hand. But I'd still rather have the coin in my hands before giving her the doe. Still, she's never cheated me and has been fair in all of our dealings so I can cut her a little slack.

Gale and the butcher manage to finagle the doe under the fence while I carry the organ meat out. After the butcher leaves I walk back to the Seam with Gale. He tries to make me take most of the meat, but I know that he's still got his whole family to feed so I only take the heart and some of the liver and give the rest to him. The meat won't keep for long and he's got more need for it.

Tonight's Mandatory Viewing is going to be the tribute scores. I wonder how Prim has been doing in the Capitol. How training has been going. What Peeta is doing to keep his promise to me. It's nerve wracking to think about it.

For the first time since Prim was reaped, I'm the one to make dinner. I mince the heart to make into meat pasties that should be able to keep for a few days since I know that my mother and I aren't going to want to cook once the Games have started. I also set the liver to the side to serve with fried spring onions.

My mother comes in and takes a look at what I am doing and nods approvingly. She sets her doctor bag to one side and joins me with making the pies. It's almost homey if it weren't for Prim's lingering absence.

I make our dinner and we put the pies in the oven to bake. We take our seats in front of the television when the screen springs to life. As we eat, Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith spell out exactly how to send in money for sponsorship. Each tribute has a phone number to call in and pledge money or items to. All calls are fielded by the district escorts or mentors, which means that I'll be either talking to Haymitch or Effie. I'm not sure which is worse. Still, I write down the number for sponsoring Prim and put it in a safe place for later.

"Now it's time for the part of the program that we've all been waiting for!" Caesar announces.

"The commercials?" Claudius offers with a smile on his face.

Caesar smacks him playfully. "There's no commercials during Mandatory Viewing, silly."

Claudius attempts to look pensive. "It's not dance time, is it?"

"Closer. It's time to get this year's Hunger Games tributes' scores."

Claudius claps his hands in delight. "Oh my how exhilarating! I hope my favorite does well."

"And who's your favorite this year, Claudius?"

"Now that would be telling," he answers with a mysterious little smile. "But I will say that they are definitely not the usual kind of tribute."

"Sounds intriguing, you'll have to tell me later who you are talking about."

"Oh, I will, Caesar."

"I look forward to it," the blue-haired man says with a smile. "Now it's time for the scores. From District One, Glimmer with a score of nine."

"She's not only beautiful, but deadly."

"Indeed she is. Also from District One, Marvel who also got a nine."

"Not bad," Claudius comments. Then he takes over the announcing duties. "From District Two, Clove, with a score of ten."

"A ten, that's a great score! I wonder if anyone can beat that this year."

"I don't know about beat, Caesar, but her district partner from Two, Cato, also received a ten."

"Also very strong."

"Two always is."

Caesar nods. "Yes, they always are." There's something in his voice. Like he knows about them training for the Games and doesn't approve. But he moves on so quickly that I think I might have imagined it.

District Three's girl, Radi, scores a two and I can't help but feel sorry for her. Any score less than a five is pretty much a death sentence in the arena unless your name is Johanna Mason. But I doubt anyone is going to play that angle this year unless it is the fox faced girl from Five. Axel from Three scored a six which has both Caesar and Claudius wondering what he did to get that. District Four's tributes Coral and Reef both score nines. Which are pretty normal for a Career district.

Uranium, the fox faced girl from Five, gets a five and her district partner Coil scores a four. The tributes from Six are both equally pathetic in their scores with a two for Grata and a three for Ford. I shake my head, those two aren't going to last long I think, remembering Grata's outburst of tears after being reaped.

District Seven does much better. Tacoma scores a seven which is high for anyone who isn't a Career. Claudius opines that she may be like the lone female winner from District Seven, Johanna Mason, and very skilled with an axe, but the scores don't say how they earned the score, only what score they got. Elm, the boy from Seven, gets a six. District Eight's Taylors both score threes. Other than their names, there isn't anything about them to make them stand out. District Nine's girl, Ceres, wins a five and the boy, Jace, manages a four.

Ten does better with Piper putting up a seven and Clint getting an eight. Considering that Clint has a lame foot, I wonder what skills he has to make up for that deficit. It has to be pretty impressive and something deadly. Considering his district is known for livestock wrangling, it is likely something to do with that. But until we see him in the Games we won't know what that is.

Rue's face flashes up next for District Eleven and I am surprised to see her score a seven. That's high. Really high. Especially for a twelve year old, even if she'd been from a Career district she'd be high at her age. Thresh also scores high with a ten which is unsurprising considering his size.

The commentators effuse for a while over District Ten and Eleven's scores. I let them even though I am anxious to find out what Prim's score will be. I hope it's high, but I doubt it. Prim isn't very good with any weapons.

"Now for our final tributes of the night. First up is Primrose Everdeen with a training score of five."

"Oh that's a very good score for our youngest tribute this year," Claudius effuses.

"Not quite as good as little Rue's, but still respectable. Up next is Peeta Mellark also from Twelve." Peeta's face flashes up in the corner of the screen. "And he scores a ten. Wow! Four tens this year, is that a record?" Caesar asks.

Claudius consults his notes. "If you omit the Fiftieth Games, where we had double the tributes, then yes that is a record."

"How exciting! And you can't count any of the lower scorers out, after all it's all about what happens in the Arena."

"You are so right, Caesar."

"I can't wait until tomorrow to interview them and get to know them better."

"I can't wait for that either."

"So until tomorrow this is Caesar Flickerman."

"And Claudius Templesmith."

"Signing off."

The screen goes dark as my mother turns it off and I sit back in my chair. A five. Prim got a five. It isn't horrible and if that girl from Eleven hadn't gotten a seven it'd be even better. But still, there have been winners with scores of five in the past. So she's got a chance. Especially when it comes to survival, which most of the careers don't. If she can stay hidden and off of their radar until their alliance breaks she's got a chance.

And with Peeta scoring so highly and his promise to pair up with Prim they are sure to get sponsorships. This gives me hope. I'm only ten coin away from being able to get Prim the string I want. I'm almost there and I still have another day to go before the Games start.

I hope I'm ready in time.

* * *

**AN:**

Beta read by RoseFyre

Written in November of 2012 as part of NaNoWriMo.  
Revised June 18, 2013.

Some of the scores changed because Katniss wasn't there but for the most part the scores listed in the books stayed the same. I couldn't remember the scores of most of the tributes in the books and I am not counting the movie's listing as canon. Some of the scores they gave the tributes makes no sense and considering who lived and who died in what kind of order I wanted to take that into consideration.

Up next, Katniss finds out just how expensive the Games really are and learns just how highly the Gamemakers think of her sister.

Please Review!


	9. Chapter Nine - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

The last day before the Games start begins very quietly. Even the birds seem subdued I note as I walk across the Meadow on my way to the edge of District Twelve. Gale meets me with a small nod of greeting at the fence and we climb under.

"So what's the plan for today?" he asks, playing with a coil of wire .

"I need just ten more coin and I'll have enough for Prim's sponsorship gift," I answer.

Putting the wire into one of his jacket pockets, he nods. "Shouldn't be too hard to get." He looks at me critically. "Katniss, do you have enough?"

I deliberately misunderstand his question. "Money? I just told you, I need ten coin more."

"No, not that," he says with shake of his head. "I mean for the baby. You're still really thin."

"I'm from the Seam, I've always been thin," I counter.

"Not this thin. My mother says it's not good for you or the baby."

I can feel my anger starting to rise. "I would think my mother, who's a whole lot more familiar with medicine than your mother, would tell me if I weren't healthy."

"Katniss..."

"Don't 'Katniss' me. You are not my mother. You aren't my husband-"

"Because you won't let me be!" Gale interrupts.

I continue on without acknowledging his protest. "And that means you don't get to tell me what to do. It's my life. And you've screwed it up enough as it is."

"Well forgive me for thinking I meant something to you," Gale snaps sarcastically. "I can see now that I was wrong."

I'm angry so I rail back. "Yeah, you really were. You were my friend, Gale. That meant a lot to me." I pause and look down at my feet. In a softer tone, I continue, "It still does. But any more than that? I don't know. I'm not ready to be thinking about that right now. But if you keep acting like this, I'm not going to ever be ready and it will never be you. Never. You're my friend, Gale. I can't give you anymore. Not now. Maybe not ever. Do you understand?" I'm tired of this same conversation with him.

He opens his mouth to say something then thinks better of it. "Yeah, I think I do."

"I hope so, I'd hate to lose you as a friend, Gale."

"I'd hate to lose you too." He takes a step closer to me, like he's going to give me a hug but decides against it. That is probably a wise choice, I'm not in a mood to be touched at the moment.

I look up and readjust my hunting jacket over my belly. "So let's get going. I don't have a lot of time left and we haven't even started yet."

"Lead the way." He makes sweeping motion with his hand.

Things are a little less tense after that, although I can tell that Gale isn't happy. That's okay, I'm not happy either. Gale goes off to set several snares while I spend my time along the stream bank. I set my nets again and wander up and down along the edge. I pick off whatever animals I can find, there aren't many only a squirrel and a raccoon, who was washing something off in the stream.

I also find a slower section of the stream that has cattails and katniss growing beside it. I smile, remembering my father's words that so long as I could find my namesake I wouldn't starve. I take off my shoes and root around in the mud with my toes to loosen up the tubers to float to the surface. I grab them and toss them up on to the bank before the stream whisks them away. I gather the cattails whole since the entire plant is useful. The katniss I just cut off the roots to take home.

Anything that I find that is edible will go into my bag today. I don't want to have to go out during the Games and after my argument with Gale I really don't want to count on him. He'd take it the wrong way and start pressuring me again to marry him.

"How's it going, Catnip?" Gale says from the edge of the wood.

"Okay," I answer looking at my haul. "Want to go pick strawberries?"

"Are they going to be ready? It's only been a few days."

I shrug. "It's worth a check. I'm going to the Mayor's tomorrow morning anyway."

"Is that when you're going to make the phone call for sponsorship?"

"Yeah. Madge is also giving me whatever donations she's managed to raise then too," I add. "So some strawberries might be enough to make up the difference if I'm short."

"Good idea."

We travel to the clearing and gather up as many strawberries as we can find. There aren't many so Gale suggests we head to our old meeting place to get blackberries too. We make out better there and after about an hour my berry bag is full.

I sit down on one of the rocks and look around a little sadly. This was my and Gale's place. Now, it's just the place that I come to get blackberries. It's a big change. "So what do we want to do now?" I ask.

He looks at me. "I think that's up to you. We can try to go tracking more game."

I think about it for several moments. Actively hunting doesn't appeal to me. Granted I only have two animals for trade, but the thought of stalking my prey through the woods makes my stomach churn. I'm tired, but I don't dare say that to Gale. So I struggle to find a way to suggest that we not tramp through the woods. "I don't think we need to. It's a nice day and lots of animals are going to come down to the stream to get a drink, we can just pick them off when they show up."

"Okay," he says giving me a funny look.

Crap! He's noticed something in my tone. I quickly come up with a reason he'll accept without too much fuss. "We can also see what we can find along the banks. I think the baby wants crayfish."

He glances down at my stomach. "Well, whatever the baby wants..."

"The baby gets," I finish. "So let's hop to it."

The rest of the day is spent splashing and patrolling the stream banks. Gale and I manage to have a good time and catch a few crayfish. Not enough for a whole meal but if I put them into a stew they'd taste good. I also gather any plants I can that I know are edible - marsh marigold, watercress, mint, chicory, nettle, thistle, and of course dandelions. The dandelions remind me of Peeta and the hope that he brought me in that terrible time after my father died. I still owe him, I think, and I have no way of paying him back.

Gale glances at the sky and tells me that it's getting close to three. Time to call it a day. I pull in my nets and small haul of fish while Gale goes and checks his snares for any game. He too only comes back with a few rabbits. I only have five fish, mostly small catfish with one trout.

We pack everything up and slip back under the fence. Gale walks me to my house and helps me unload everything. I repack my game bag with the trout, squirrel and raccoon and put the other four fish in the cooler for later. Gale gives me one of his rabbits and I want to refuse, but it's for Prim. I should have enough to get the ten coin I need but a little extra won't hurt.

The Hob is bustling with people bringing in items to trade. I beeline for Sae's booth and pull out my game and fish. She gives me a hard look and asks bluntly, "How much you short by?"

I tell her and she nods. "I can give you that for this lot. Save you from tramping around everywhere."

I probably could make more, but she's right, I'd have to go all over town. I'd rather get home, there's a lot of things I'd like to do before the interviews, mainly double and triple checking to make sure that I haven't miscounted anything. But there's also normal everyday living things that I need to do, things like laundry, making cheese, pickling the vegetables that I've gathered, making jam. Things that will mean that I can survive the winter or even the next few days.

I get home and start my chores. I am not the greatest of cooks but I can do simple things and at least do all of the prep work for my mother to finish. But before I do any of that, I take down the jar holding the money I've earned and spill it out onto the bed. Carefully I count the coins, dropping them back into the jar in multiples of ten. I do it once and the do it again.

When I get done with my second count, I sit back with a smile on my face. Three hundred and fifty two coin. Enough to buy the spool I want and a little left over to start rebuilding the nest egg I'd sacrificed. I don't even need to sell the strawberries to the Mayor, although I probably still will. After all, I have a baby coming in a few months.

My mother returns home and smiles at my preparations, we spend the next few hours canning and preserving what I got from the woods. I clean the fish and feed the entrails to Buttercup, he mewls pathetically and looks around expectantly for his mistress. When she doesn't show up, he hisses at me.

"I miss her, too," I tell him.

He hisses at me again. Stupid cat.

A little before seven, my mother hands me a bowl of crayfish stew with katniss root and we sit down in front of the screen. I know that Caesar Flickerman has this amazing knack of making the tributes look as good as they can.

He comes out in his blue hair and sparkling suit and the crowd cheers. He greets them and gets right down to business. After all he's got twenty four tributes to get through and even though they only get three minutes per tribute, that's still a lot to get through.

As always, District One starts off. Glimmer flounces up onstage in a sheer, opaque dress that sparkles when she moves. She looks even more gorgeous than she did during the parade and I know that she's going to get a lot of sponsors. She flirts and gives all sorts of innuendo during her interview.

My mother snorts at her and looks over at me. "That girl is a tramp."

"A deadly one," I reply.

"She's got no shame. I'm glad your father and I raised you girls better than that."

I feel guilty. She also raised us to wait until marriage to engage in any kind of sexual activity. I know she's disappointed in me, but she doesn't say anything. What good would it do? It's okay, she's disappointed me in the past too.

The buzzer rings and Marvel saunters up onstage. He poses and smirks and I can hear a few of the younger members of the audience let out high pitched squeals. I don't get it. I suppose Marvel is good looking but I'm just not into the persona he's creating.

My mother agrees with me. "He's a bad boy."

"He's a Career," I state. It's a given he's a bad boy.

My mother chuckles. "No, not that way. He's the kind of boy who'd break a girl's heart and then go out with her best friend just because he could. I don't like him."

"You're not supposed to like him," I point out.

"Maybe not, but I can feel sorry for them most years. They're also victims of the Games."

She's got a point. Even Careers are victims of the Capitol, even if they volunteered to be there.

Clove walks up next. She's dressed in a simple black and gold dress with lace up sandals. Her lean muscles are accentuated. She greets Caesar politely and sits down on the couch next to his chair.

"So Clove Miner, you certainly are a lovely tribute."

"Thank you, Caesar. My stylist is wonderful to turn a poor district girl into this." She motions to her hair and dress.

"Well, they certainly had a great canvas to work on. So tell me, what did you do to earn such a high score?"

Clove smiles cruelly. "I'll let you use your imagination on that one. But let's just say that I made an impression and go with that. You can't expect a girl to give away all of her secrets."

"No, of course not. So let's go back to the day you were reaped. What was going through your head when you heard your name called?"

Clove 's face drains of color and she takes a few seconds to reply to Caesar, which is in stark contrast to the cocky girl she was portraying earlier. "I was honored, of course," she says eventually. "Who wouldn't be to compete in a Games like these? In fact, I thought that someone would want to take my place and get the glory for herself. I guess she lost her nerve."

"Well, lucky for us that she did."

Clove tries to smile but it comes out like she is trying not to cry or bite Caesar's head off. Thankfully the buzzer sounds and she positively bolts from the stage. That clinches it in my mind, she doesn't want to be there. That is unusual for a Career. There is something else going on, only I'm not sure what.

Cato places a hand on Clove's shoulder before he strides onstage. They share a look.

Caesar comments on it as soon as the Career sits down. "It looks like you and Clove are close. Did you know each other back in District Two?"

Cato glances over to Clove before answering and she gives him a small nod. "I've known her all my life. We grew up together."

"So would you say that you're good friends?"

"Yes, I'd say that." He glances back over to her and I begin to feel the stirrings of sympathy for the two. That's probably why they're both so upset, they don't want to kill their friend.

Caesar however seems to see something that I don't and presses on. "Would you say that you're more than friends?"

Cato freezes. This is not the angle he was planning on portraying. I can tell that from his face. But to refuse to answer Caesar hurts the tributes, any Career knows that. Again he looks to Clove for some kind of confirmation. She closes her eyes and a spasm of pain crosses her features but she gives another brief nod.

Taking a deep breath, Cato finally answers Caesar's question. "She's the most important person in my life."

The crowd erupts into a series of loud shouts and cries. Most of them exclaiming how horrible it is that two lovers are having to go into the Arena but some are excited, wanting to see love turn into murderous rage. It makes me sick to my stomach.

The audience doesn't manage to get back under control in time for Caesar to ask another question, so Cato manages to escape back to his seat next to Clove. I feel sorry for the girl from Three, no one, not even the camera, is paying any attention to her. They're too focused on Cato and Clove trying to recover from Cato's admission. I can see them whispering to each other and I'm grateful that the Capitol cameras can't see their lips clearly, otherwise we'd be having a running translation of what they are saying.

The boy from Three, Axel, manages to get the attention back on him. He's quiet, polite, and when asked if he has a strategy he gives a little smile and answers. "I do. And it's going to be something with a real bang to it."

Four is up next. Coral is a typical Career from Four: quiet and arrogant. Unlike One and Two, Four careers tend to let their weapons and kills speak for them. She doesn't say much other than to remind Caesar that there's a reason why there are a lot of winners from Four and that she intends on being the next one.

Reef apparently is camera shy. Which Caesar manages to turn into something adorable. The poor boy stutters through his interview but his score and physique will still manage to get him sponsors.

The foxfaced girl from Five is next. Uranium's a marked contrast to Reef: poised, polished, and reeking of suppressed danger. She's the kind of girl you'd expect to sneak up behind you and stab you in the back. She reminds Caesar that the scores aren't everything and that most years the highest scoring tributes tend to end up dead. She smiles a little at that and my blood runs a little cold.

I miss her district partner's time because I decide that I need a nice cup of warm tea after Uranium's interview.

The two from Six are equally pathetic. The girl is barely able to get any words out and the boy has already given up. I feel sorry for Caesar since there is nothing he can do with either of them.

You can almost taste Caesar's relief when Tacoma comes up onstage. She's clearly trying to channel Johanna Mason's post games persona. She's rough, crude and abrasive. But she also makes an impression.

When Caesar asks "Are you as strong as you look?"

Her answer is to pick him up into a bear hug. "Is that strong enough for you?" she asks as she sets him down.

"Oh, I think so!" he exclaims to the crowd's cheers. I can see out at the edge of the screen that there were Peacekeepers poised to come up onstage and that only a hand wave from Caesar kept them from bounding up there and forcibly restraining Tacoma. I wonder if the girl knows what kind of trouble she's in. And in my mind, I lower her chances even further. After her display, the Gamemakers are never going to allow her to win. She's just too unpredictable.

Elm seems to realize that and his interview is calm, polite and boring. As are the two from Eight. My bladder twinges and I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I don't want to miss Prim's interview and I honestly don't think the tributes from Nine are going to be any competition. I come back in on the tail end of the girl from Ten's interview. Piper seems sweet but I'm remembering her seven training score. She may seem sweet, but so are a lot of poisons. Both can kill you.

The boy from Ten, Clint, limps up on stage. Naturally Caesar focuses in on that. "How is your foot going to affect your Games?" he asks bluntly.

The boy glares at him. "It isn't."

"If you say so! So mind giving us a hint of what to expect from you?"

"No," he replies sullenly.

"Oh my, it seems that you've got a bit of a temper on you," Caesar points out.

"Was that a question?" I find myself liking this Clint. He's obviously aware that no one is going to sponsor him because of his limp and so is refusing to play their little game. I have to respect him for that and in any other Games but this one I'd be rooting for him.

Rue bounces up onto the stage in a light blue outfit complete with little gossamer wings. She's rocking it. She also manages to completely charm Caesar with her assertion that even though she's small, she shouldn't be counted out. I almost wish that Prim had that kind of pluck but I know that I'm underestimating my sister. She's sweet and able to make anyone love her. She's going to do fine.

Thresh, Rue's district partner, also seems unwilling to play the Capitol's game. Although unlike Clint from Ten, his monosyllabic replies make him come off as menacing and not sullen. He'll get sponsors just based on his size alone.

I lean forward as the buzzer sounds. It's Prim's turn. She floats up onstage in a white and yellow sundress with a crown of daisies in her hair. She looks fresh and sweet and I bless whoever her stylist is that they're not trying to sexualize my twelve year old sister. She sits down and looks expectantly at Caesar.

"So, Primrose Everdeen, how are you finding the Capitol?"

Prim smiles. "I wish I could see more of it! What I saw at the Parade and from my window here at the Training Center it all looks so pretty!"

"So what's your favorite thing so far?"

She thinks about it for a moment. "If you'd asked me when I first got here I would have said the food. But now, I think it's the people I've met. They've all been so nice!"

The crowd coos at her and I smile. She's winning them over. Caesar senses this and moves on. "Well, it sounds like the Capitol likes you too."

"Oh, I hope so!"

"So take us back to the Parade. How did it feel being on fire like that?"

Prim leans forward. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course you can!"

"I was a little scared. I even asked Peeta to tear the cape off of me if the fire got too high. But then he put me up on his shoulders and I was having too much fun to be scared."

"So the Parade was fun?"

"Uh-huh! With all of the people waving and cheering and throwing flowers. I just wish I could have saved all of the flowers I got." She looks sad and I know that the Capitol is just eating this up.

"I'm sure you'll get more flowers, Primrose."

"Prim. Call me Prim. It's what all of my friends call me." She smiles winningly at the blue-haired man.

Caesar looks flattered. "Okay, Prim. So we all know that you volunteered for your sister, why did you do that?"

Prim looks like she's about to cry. "I didn't want her and the baby to die. I couldn't let that happen, not when I could stop it."

"That was very brave of you."

She shakes her head. "It's what sisters do. We look out for each other, I know she'd have done the same if it were me."

"Is there anything you want to say to your sister right now, Prim?"

She waves at the camera. "I love you, Katniss. And I'll be home soon!"

The buzzer sounds and I'm trying not to break down and cry. My sister did so well, she was sweet and charming and the Capitol loved her. But it isn't enough. Not with the star-crossed lovers of District Two, the conniving girl from Five, and the mountain that is Thresh. My sister doesn't stand a chance.

Peeta gives Prim a quick hug and walks up onstage. Caesar immediately asks him about the hug. "So you're close to Prim?"

Peeta shakes his head. "I didn't know her all that well back home. But I've really grown to love her in the time that I've known her. There's just something about her that makes people care about her."

"You know, I think you're right. I just met Prim and it feels like I've known her forever."

"She's just that loveable, I suppose," Peeta agrees.

"So what is your favorite thing about the Capitol?" Caesar asks. It's his go to question.

Peeta is prepared because he smoothly goes into a long thing about the Capitol showers culminating with having Caesar smell his arm. The audience eats this up and is laughing the whole time.

"So do you think your shower mishap affected your score?"

Peeta laughs. "Not unless I bowled the Gamemakers over with my smell. And in that case I should have gotten an eleven!"

"Still, a ten is nothing to sneeze at."

"I'm just grateful that they thought so highly of me. It's really an honor."

"So is there anyone waiting for you back home? Maybe a girlfriend?" I raise an eyebrow. Caesar only asks that question when the tribute has a good chance of making the top eight and most of the time is the winner of their Games. In the games I can remember he's asked that question in Finnick Odair's, Cashmere Velvet's, Gloss Velvet's, Annie Cresta's, and last year's winner's Lupus Maxim from Two's interviews and each time those people went on to win. He must think Peeta has a good chance to be asking that question.

Peeta's face goes carefully blank. "Well, there is a girl I really love, Caesar."

"Oh? Did you two do anything special before you came here?"

"She did come see me in the Justice Building," he replies and I feel my heart stop. He can't mean... Peeta continues unaware of my fears. "We hugged and talked and I gave her a kiss goodbye. We didn't have a lot of time so I couldn't tell her everything I wanted to say."

"Well when you win, you'll get a chance to get those words out."

Peeta shakes his head sadly. "I don't think she'll talk to me if I win."

"And why's that?"

"Because her sister is in the Games with me."

The audience explodes into a cacophony of cries and protests and I wish I could join in with them. My mother looks over at me sharply and I can't even find words to protest, I'm just in too much shock.

"Peeta likes me," I whisper.

"I'm surprised you didn't figure that out earlier," my mother says quietly.

I shoot her a sharp look.

"You've always been oblivious to that kind of thing, Katniss."

"I'm sorry," I snap. "I have more important things to worry about. And how was I supposed to know, we've said all of three words to each other before the Reaping."

My mother smiles at me sadly. "I guess I view the world a little differently."

"So that's why he promised to bring Prim home."

She nods.

I replay the time I spent with Peeta in the Justice Building and suddenly things make a lot more sense. The request for the hug. His words. The kiss. Even his promise to bring Prim home. All of it was because he loves me. "Peeta loves me."

"I know."

"Why?" I ask. "How?"

She shrugs. "Who knows? Love's a funny thing, you don't always get to choose who you fall in love with. It just happens."

I think of her and my father and nod. She would know. They were the star-crossed lovers of District Twelve in their time.

"I didn't need this," I grouse. "It's just one more thing to worry about."

My mother looks out the window and then back at me. "I'm afraid that's not the only thing you have to worry about."

"What's that?"

"Gale's here."

* * *

**AN:**

Written November 2012 as part of NaNoWriMo.

Revised 7/12/13

Beta read by RoseFyre.

Yes, things have changed. I'll admit that I tend to think of Cato and Clove being a little more than just district partners. There's his reaction to her death in the books. The fact that he begs her to stay with him is very telling. So yes, I think they likely meant something to each other. So in my story Cato stole some of Peeta's thunder.

Up Next: The Games Begin!

Please Review!


	10. Chapter Ten - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Spectator**

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Ten **

Gale's fist bangs on the door and my mother rushes to open it before he smashes it in. He stands in the doorway, breathing heavily. He obviously ran from his house all the way over here. I can guess why. Peeta's interview.

"Come in," my mother says politely. "Would you like some tea?"

Gale ignores her. "Katniss, we need to talk." His grey eyes are flinty.

"Come in and sit down, Gale," I say from my chair by the television. The tributes are all standing for the anthem of Panem which tells me that the show is now over. Goody. Just in time for the fireworks to begin.

He glances at my mother. "We need to talk privately," he growls and walks toward my chair as if he is going to forcibly pick me up and carry me outside so we can have the argument that I know is forthcoming.

My mother steps in front of him, blocking his way. "Whatever you need to discuss with Katniss, you can do so in front of me." Her protectiveness surprises me. It's so different from the woman I remember.

"I don't think this is a conversation that you need to be a part of," he says in a very hard voice.

"If it involves my underage daughter, it does," my mother says stubbornly.

I'm grateful to her but this is my fight. I stand up and turn off the screen before asking, "What do you want?" I know what he wants, but it's as good of an opening as any.

"What was that, Katniss?" he demands, gesticulating at the screen.

"The interviews?" I ask being deliberately obtuse. "They happen every year. I'd have thought you'd know that by now."

He narrows his eyes at me. "I do. I meant what that merchant kid, Mellark, said."

Great. Gale's class prejudices are coming out. He seems to forget that my mother was a merchant and my closest friend other than him is one too. "Which part? The part where he called my sister lovable or where he talked about the strange Capitol showers?" Again, I'm not going to say it. Gale's going to have to make the accusation.

And he does. "You know what part I mean. The part where you kissed him." He makes it sound like I went and slept with the Head Peacekeeper, Cray. Like I did something disgusting and desperate.

My temper flares at the insinuation. "I didn't kiss him! He kissed me! That's a whole world of difference!"

Gale crosses his arms like he's just won the argument. "But you're not denying that you said goodbye to him."

"Of course, I'm not. I told you I talked to him and he promised to save Prim."

"You didn't mention the hug or the kiss," he states flatly.

"That's because it wasn't any of your business," I shoot back. He's driving me crazy with this possessive protective thing he has going on.

He takes a step toward me. "Are you sleeping with him?" His voice is low, dangerous.

"What?" I'm honestly confused. Where did that question come from?

"Are you sleeping with him, Katniss?" he repeats in a more normal tone.

I stare at him, disbelieving. "I can't believe you'd even ask me that," I say. I'm hurt and angry and I want to cry. "But, no, I didn't sleep with him or anyone else."

A relieved smile crosses his face and his whole posture eases. "Good."

That just makes me angrier. "What makes you think you have the right to ask me that?"

He gives me a look like I should already know the answer. "You're carrying my child."

I see red. "Just because you knocked me up doesn't mean that you get to have any say about how I live my life. You're not my husband, Gale! And after tonight you're never going to be! Now get out!" I turn away so he can't see the tears that are threatening to fall. I'm not some prize to be fought over. I'm my own person and I can make my own decisions. I'm just so angry and hurt, I can't bear to face him. He has no right to be acting like this. None.

"Katniss..." he says from behind me.

"You heard my daughter, get out," my mother says in a hard voice.

I hear Gale leave and my mother shut the door behind him. She crosses the room to me and rubs my back and shoulders soothingly. I'm grateful that she was there, but it doesn't stop the hurt.

"It's never going to go back to the way it was, is it?" I say in a voice that's full of tears.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," my mother replies. She doesn't have to tell me that I'm right. I've already realized the truth. I've known it for a while but I haven't wanted to admit it.

My mother warms up some of Lady's milk and gives it to me. I wrinkle my nose at the warm white liquid but I take it anyway. It will soothe my nerves and help me sleep. Tomorrow the before the Games start at noon and I need to go to the Justice Building to make my payment then go to the Mayor's house.

Madge has invited me to watch the first day at her house and I even though I don't want to, I know I should probably not watch the first day alone. Most Games at least a third of the tributes die at the Cornucopia the only exception to that was the year that the Cornucopia only held spiked maces. That year all of the non-careers bolted for cover. Making the deaths at the Cornucopia a whopping two. Sadly both were from District Twelve, I guess they thought that there might be something further in, I don't know, all I know is that they died quickly and Haymitch was especially drunk that year, having to be supported by Chaff from District Eleven when he did the exit interviews.

I drink my milk and go to bed. I need to be up early tomorrow.

**oOo**

The next morning is a little hectic. I get up, get breakfast and go down to the Justice Building and wait for it to open. The clerk comes out and I ask where the sponsorship office is. He gives me a sympathetic glance before he leads me to a very small office in the basement. The woman seated there looks like she would rather be anywhere else than in that office and I feel unsympathetic. She, at least, is paid to be here. I'm here for my sister.

She takes down all of my information and asks if I want to make a general funds donation or buy a specific item. When I tell her item, she looks at me in annoyance. "Those are supposed to be phoned into to the mentors and paid via bank funds transfer."

"I don't have a bank account," I protest.

"Not my problem."

"Isn't there another way?" I plead.

She snorts. "Not unless you can call Haymitch Abernathy and convince him to buy what you want."

"I'll do that. Just give me the form."

She looks at me like I'm crazy, but I've got to try. She hands me the form and I run to the Mayor's house. Madge opens the door and I gasp out, "I've got to call Haymitch!" He needs to

She sees the form crumpled around the jar of coins in my hand and nods. She takes the jar and the paper from my hands and leads me upstairs to her father's office. She knocks on the door and waits for him to answer.

When he does, she opens the door and lets me inside. The Mayor is seated at his desk, it's obviously been cleared off of any documents that I'm not allowed to see. That's fine with me, honestly, he's taking a big enough of a risk letting me use his phone.

I dial the number for Prim that was up on the television a few nights ago when they announced the scores. And almost immediately a gruff voice answers, "Yeah?"

"Is this the number to sponsor Primrose Everdeen?" I ask.

"It is, yeah."

"Can I talk with her mentor, Haymitch Abernathy?"

"Who do you think answered the phone, sweetheart."

My temper flares. "Well, how am I supposed to know what your voice sounds like? I've only ever heard you when you were throwing up."

"You want something?" I can hear the annoyance in his tone.

I calm myself down. "I want you to send Prim something very specific today after she gets away from the Cornucopia."

"Think she's going to survive, huh?" He sounds amused.

"I know she is. When she gets away, you need to send her item number," I pause to check the catalog to make sure, "three eight one two seven A. You think you can do that?"

"You want to send her string?" He asks after a few moments when he was obviously looking up the item.

"She's good with snares and making nets," I answer. "If she can keep herself fed, she's got a chance."

"Who are you?" he asks.

"Her sister."

"The one the boy's in love with?" There's no question who 'the boy' is.

I nod then realize he can't see me. "Yeah."

"Well, shit. Ain't this a damned predicament."

"It's not really. Just send her the string, I can't do the item sponsorship because I don't have a bank account. So I've got to do general. I've got the money for it. Please, Mr. Abernathy." I'm starting to get a little desperate and it's apparent in my voice.

"So you're going to owe me if I do this, huh? Okay I want you to do something for me."

"If I can," I answer.

"When they come to interview you, and they will, don't say anything bad about the boy."

"Peeta? Why would they interview me about Peeta?"

The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening and I blush. Of course they'll interview me if he reaches the final eight. They all think I'm his girlfriend.

"I get it now. I won't say anything bad about him."

"If you could play that you liked him that'd be better."

"I owe him. Will that work?"

He considers it for a few moments. "It'll do. Send the money, your sister will get the string." He hangs up without any kind of goodbye and that is fine with me.

I put the handset back into the cradle and look up at the Mayor and Madge. "He'll send it."

"Great! Now fill the form out and I'll go with you back to the Justice Building," Madge says.

"I'll go with you as well," the Mayor adds.

I nod at them gratefully and reach out for the piece of paper Madge is holding. I carefully fill out all of the fields with a blue fountain pen the Mayor hands me and when I'm done he looks the form over to make sure I'm not missing anything and signs the 'witness' field verifying that everything is accurate.

Things go much smoother at the Justice Building this time. The clerk is positively effusive at the Mayor and Madge. Granted, she still looks at me like I'm dirt on her shoe but so long as she doesn't screw me over, I don't really care. She counts my coin out with a displeased expression on her face. I know that in the Capitol they use paper money. But out here in the districts, metal is still used mostly because it lasts longer. Still, she doesn't short my count like I half feared and a half hour before the Games are set to start we're done.

I walk back to the Mayor's house wishing that I'd brought something to snack on. I pass the bakery and feel the few coins I didn't need for Prim's gift in my pocket. I could get something, but should I? The baker's been kind to me and maybe by buying something from his family I can assuage some of the guilt I feel about owing Peeta.

I tell Madge and the Mayor that I'll meet them at their house in a few and walk into the shop. Mr. Mellark and his oldest son Bing are manning the counter. Good, I don't need to face Peeta's mother.

"Dad," Bing says nudging his father and nodding in my direction.

The baker's face lights up. "Katniss! I was hoping you'd stop by. I've got something for you."

I tilt my head questioningly at him

Flustered, he rummages around in the pockets of his apron. "I had it here, so I wouldn't lose it. I was going to bring it by later, after I closed the shop, for you," he explains, his hands pulling out various bits of detritus from his apron. "Ah here it is!"

He hands me an envelope with my name on it.

"What's this?" I ask.

"I don't know. I found it in Peeta's things when I was..." he trails off and swallows visibly a few times. "I thought he'd have wanted you to have it."

I nod and slip the envelope into the pocket of my coat. "I'll read it later," I tell him. "Do you think I might be able to buy some cheese buns?" I ask, changing the subject.

Bing laughs. "Of course you can!"

I smile at him. He's a good man, newly engaged to his school sweetheart, Iris. This was her last year of being eligible for being Reaped, so he proposed shortly before the Reaping in hope that her name wouldn't get called. We get married young in Twelve. Most of us don't live past fifty because of disease, the lack of food, the coal dust in the air, and Capitol cruelties. It means that we're less likely to dawdle once our names will no longer get drawn from that big glass bowl.

I hand him a coin and he pulls out fours cheese buns from the display, enough for me to share with Madge and her family. He puts them in the bag and hands the bag to his father who slips something else in the bag before taking my coin and ringing me up. He hands me back my change and I slip out of the door. I don't want to be late for the start of the Games.

I get to the Mayor's house and knock on the door. I could have just walked in, they are expecting me, but I don't feel comfortable barging in to someone else's home like that. The Mayor answers and says, "Madge is helping Rachel in the kitchen. I thought you'd like something a little more substantial than bread."

"Thank you, but you didn't have to go to any trouble."

"It's no trouble for a friend of Madge's," he replies.

I hold up the bag. "Then at least let me share what I got with you."

"What do you have in there?"

I smile. "Cheese buns."

"Sounds delicious. I'll be happy to accept the trade." And I know he understands I can't be beholden to him or to anyone.

I walk into the kitchen and give a smile to Madge, who is standing at the stove stirring something in a pot. "What are you making?" I ask. Whatever is in the pot smells heavenly and my stomach gives a growl in anticipation.

"Lamb stew," she replies. "It's not quite the same as they have in the Capitol but it's still pretty good."

"You've had Capitol food?" I ask, surprised.

She shrugs. "A few canned items that they send my father every New Year's for a job well done, or something like that."

"Ah. Prim mentioned the food in her interview. It's got to be better than here, right?"

Madge shrugs again. "Maybe. I'm pretty partial to some things here more."

I have an idea what she means. No matter how good another cuisine is, there's something about home cooked food. "I've got cheese buns to go with the stew."

"It's like you knew!" she says with a laugh.

"Or I was just craving warm cheesy goodness."

"The baby knew then. Watch out Katniss, your kid's going to be psychic."

"Must be." My stomach growls again. I open the bag to put the buns on the plate and find that the baker has also included a few more of the iced cookies: One for me and one for my mother. I look at the icing and note that the flowers aren't as delicate as last time but I can't fault the baker for having a shakier hand. I put them back in the bag and place the bag in my pocket so I won't forget it.

I pick up my tray with the stew and bun on it and a mug of warm tea with milk in it and head back out to the viewing room. When I'm seated, the Mayor turns on the television. Unlike Mandatory Viewing at seven every day, the screen doesn't come on automatically at the start of the Games.

It's a little before noon and the commentators are talking about their favorite moments from bloodbaths past. Enobaria winner of the Sixty Second Games bashing in the skulls of two tributes in one blow comes up a few times although there are a few other favorite moments. I don't normally watch the bloodbath, waiting for the recap during Mandatory Viewing. So I don't get the whole rehash of Games past then. I eat my stew, which is as good as it smelled, and try not to lose my appetite as they describe a particularly gruesome death.

At noon, Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith appear on the screen and announce, "Happy Hunger Games!"

"Now, let's get our first look at this year's Arena," Caesar states and I lean in. This is what could spell life or death for Prim. The screen flickers and I let out a sigh of relief when I see that it's wooded hills with a small clearing where the Cornucopia is. On the east side of the clearing is a large lake, obviously the main water source for the Arena, although I hope there are others for Prim's sake. To the west lies a large field of some kind of grain. There is a small cliff leading down to it so it isn't visible from the main clearing as easily. The rest of the clearing is surrounded by woods and wooded hills. Perfect for Prim's survival skills, I hope that there are plants there that she can eat and I note that there are reeds, willow, and cattails growing along the lake.

I take this in quickly because my eyes are drawn to the opening of the twenty four pedestals equally spaced in a circle around the Cornucopia. My eyes flick from tribute to tribute until I locate Prim. She's in between the girl from Six and the boy from Three. Good, neither are Careers. That is good for Prim.

Peeta is about four tributes to the left of her facing into the Cornucopia opening. The platforms lock into place and the countdown starts. For one agonizing minute, a full sixty seconds, the tributes have to stand there or be blown to bits by the mines surrounding the pedestals.

Prim looks around frantically, calming visibly when she spots Peeta. She gives him a little nod and starts looking at the array of supplies scattered around her. Directly in front of her is a loaf of bread and just a little beyond that a pair of socks. In front of the girl from Six, I spot a fishing kit and a piece of plastic. Useful items, but not all that useful. The closest backpack is closer to the head of the Cornucopia.

The camera circles around the clearing, focusing in on each of the tributes in turn. When the count reaches twenty, the screen splits to show a wide view of the four cardinal directions. The tributes take their marks and wait for the gong to sound signaling the start of the Games.

Ten seconds.

I find Prim on the screen.

Nine seconds.

I feel Madge take the tray of food away from me.

Eight seconds.

A slight headshake from Peeta draws my eyes to him.

Seven seconds.

He motions to the woods to one side of the clearing.

Six seconds.

Prim nods.

Five seconds.

I realize that they must have some kind of plan to meet up.

Four seconds.

I see Prim clench her fists.

Three seconds.

Peeta's eyes focus on the opening of the Cornucopia.

Two seconds.

The baby moves within me as if it is sensing my anxiousness.

One second.

I draw deep breath.

The gong sounds and chaos erupts on the screen. Tributes are running every which way, some to the Cornucopia some away. The girl from Five is the first to make it to the trees and the relative safety therein.

I struggle to find Prim on the split screen cacophony. I find her and try not to take my eyes off of her. As I expected, she's making a beeline for the woods, but taking enough time to try to pick up a few random items here and there. So far I see she's gotten the bread and the socks when my attention is drawn away from her by the cries of the announcers.

The first battle at the Cornucopia is taking place between Reef and Thresh. Reef has managed to get his hands on a hunting knife and is lashing out at the much larger boy. It must rankle knowing that a non-Career scored higher than he did. Now, he's got something to prove. He swipes his knife across the dark skinned boy's bicep and smiles when he sees he's drawn blood. He takes a step back to gloat and that is his undoing. Thresh swats the knife out of his hand and picks the smaller boy up into a crushing bear hug. With a calculated jerk, he breaks Reef's back. The body falls limply to the ground and Thresh goes about picking up whatever supplies he wants before taking off for the cliff edge and the grain field beyond.

The Careers who saw Reef go down are in shock and it gives some of the other tributes time to grab a few supplies and go. Little Rue's managed to score a bright orange backpack thanks to the distraction while Prim's grabbed the items from in front of Grata's pedestal. The poor girl from Six is still on the raised circle, just crying softly to herself. Prim gives her a sympathetic glance but keeps moving.

This is smart because by this time the rest of the Careers have reached the opening of the Cornucopia, as has Peeta. I see that Peeta is grabbing several packs of supplies while the Careers bypass him to grab weapons then start in on the weaker tributes who haven't managed to clear out from the Cornucopia mouth.

Coil goes down with a knife in the head courtesy of Clove. I can see that her skill with those knives must be why she got a ten in training. The boy from Seven, Elm, grabs an axe and wheels around to find someone to attack with it only to find an arrow shaft protruding from his belly, He touches the fletching and looks up to see Glimmer standing in the opening of the Cornucopia with a bow and arrows. He keels over curling around the shaft and Glimmer smirks. I was right, beautiful and deadly.

Cato grabs a short sword and looks around for a target. The girl from Three, Radi, is struggling with a pack that's partially weighed down by Elm's body. The Career from Two sprints towards her and before she can manage to scream, runs her through the chest. He looks up from his kill and finds Clove's eyes and gives her a quick smile.

She returns it then her focus is back on the chaos around her. Noticing a few of the outlying tributes, Clove moves to try to get a good shot. I suck in my breath when her eyes alight on Prim. She smirks and draws out a knife and aims it. As the knife leaves her hand, Prim bends down to grab a small pouch and the knife sails over her head and into the grass beyond. I swear I can hear Clove gnashing her teeth in frustration. She pulls out another knife when a shout from the girl from Four distracts her.

Thankfully, Prim seems to think that she's accrued enough supplies and takes off for the woods. I notice that the tributes around the Cornucopia have thinned considerably. Other than Uranium, Thresh and Prim, I can see that Clint from Ten, both tributes from Nine, and the female Taylor from Eight have also cleared out. Rue's been hanging out on the edges of the clearing and when Prim enters the woods she follows her. My heart sinks.

But the cameras won't move from the Cornucopia, I'll have to wait until either something spectacular happens with Rue and Prim or the bloodbath ends to find out how my sister is doing.

My attention is now focused on Peeta. He's grabbed lots of supplies and stuffed them into one large back frame. Unfortunately, with the smaller pool of tributes the Careers can no longer ignore him. Coral and Clove corner him against the Cornucopia. Clove flings a knife which he moves his pack up to deflect the flying weapon.

Coral rushes in at him, a knife aimed low at his gut. Peeta steps to one side and grabs her arm. Then in a move I saw him perform in a wrestling match, he turns Coral's arm back in on itself. The knife enters her belly and she lets out a cry. Peeta finishes her off with a chop to the back of her neck, forcing Coral onto the hard ground and the knife further into her stomach.

Clove's eyes widen and she rushes Peeta, hoping to take him out while he's winded from his fight with Coral. Luckily, he sees her coming and grabs her arm and spins, flinging her into the side of the Cornucopia. Clove is clearly dazed and slumps to the ground unconscious or dead, I'm not sure which. We won't know who survived until the end of the bloodbath and the commentators give us a list in order of who died. Meanwhile, Peeta takes the opportunity to grab the bundle of knives out of her other hand then he hoists his pack onto his back. Making sure that no one else is going to attack him, he sprints off to the woods a little to the left of where Prim entered.

On the other side of the Cornucopia, Marvel is toying with the male Taylor from District Eight. He's jabbing the poor boy with a spear. Nothing fatal. Just painful. With each jab, Marvel laughs and cracks some crude joke. I feel the lamb stew considering making a reappearance. I turn away from the screen and take a careful sip of my tea. I hate the Careers. Now that I'm no longer so focused on the action on the television, I can actually hear the announcers' comments.

They are going on and on over the fact that two Careers have fallen so early. Caesar even comments that no one from Districts One, Two, or Four have fallen first in over forty five years. I'm sure that back in District Four the families of those two tributes are feeling embarrassed and ashamed, but here in Twelve I just feel relief. That's two less threats for Prim to take on.

My stomach settles enough for me to turn back to the screen. Only a few tributes remain at the Cornucopia. Ford, the boy from Six, falls with an axe to the back courtesy of Tacoma. He'd been trying to pull his district partner, Grata, from her pedestal where she'd been frozen crying the whole time. She's finally killed by Cato who calmly walks up to her and skewers her through the heart.

Tacoma readies another throwing axe to try to take out Cato but notices Marvel charging at her. She makes a rude gesture at the handsome boy from One and sprints off into the woods.

And with the departure of Tacoma, the bloodbath is over.

* * *

**AN:**

Written as part of NaNoWriMo in November of 2012

Revised 7/13/13

Beta Read by RoseFyre

I don't think Gale would handle the revelation that the person he considers his girl kissed another man. Never mind that Peeta kissed her and didn't really give her a vote. He's a lot more possessive here and Katniss doesn't handle that well. Their relationship was already strained before the start of this fic but I think that this pretty much doomed it. He isn't going away entirely, but he's going to feature a lot less in this fic. He'll be back later.

Now for something new that you will see for the duration of the Games. Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.

1. Reef, District Four, Killed by Thresh, Broken Back  
2. Coil, District Five, Killed by Clove, Knife to the Head  
3. Elm, District Seven, Killed by Glimmer, Arrow to the Gut  
4. Radi, District Three, Killed by Cato, Sword to the Chest  
5. Coral, District Four, Killed by Peeta, Knife to the Gut  
6. Taylor (male), District Eight, Killed by Marvel, Spear to the Back  
7. Ford, District Six, Killed by Tacoma, Axe to the Back  
8. Grata, District Six, Killed by Cato, Sword to the Chest

This will help you and me keep track of who all is left. As for Clove, we'll find out her fate in the next chapter. She's not dead, yet. But she's not quite up for going for a walk.

Up Next: The Aftermath of the Bloodbath

Please Review!


	11. Chapter Eleven - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

I sit back on the couch as the cannons sound eight times indicating how many tributes perished during the bloodbath. Absently, I stroke my protruding stomach. I find myself doing that more and more lately as the baby has begun to move. It doesn't move a lot and it's barely enough to really feel through my skin, but even so it's still enough that I know what I'm feeling.

My eyes drift back to the Careers are who pulling the dead tributes off to one side where the hovercrafts can collect the bodies without accidentally scooping up any of the scattered supplies. Glimmer lets out a cry of dismay when she finds Coral and Clove, attracting Cato and Marvel's attention. Stopping what they were doing, both sprint over to where the blond girl is standing.

When Cato spots Clove, the whole vicious killer falls away and I'm suddenly reminded that this hulking boy from Two is just another victim of the Capitol who's being forced to watch their loved one suffer and die in the Games. He runs up to her crumpled form and gathers her into his arms, pleading for her not to leave him. He rocks her back and forth, smoothing her hair and whispering her name over and over.

Beside me, I can see tears forming in Madge's eyes and I too find it hard to remain unaffected. He clearly loves her and it's hard watching such raw emotion without feeling something.

Marvel is the first to notice that Clove is still breathing and points it out to Cato. The blond boy looks up at his ally blankly, then places two fingers on the pulse point in her neck. The relief he feels when he finds it is clearly visible on his face. Clove is alive. Unconscious, but alive. I'm torn, part of me is relieved with him, but the other part is disappointed that the Career Pack is only down two members instead of three.

I can only imagine how the Capitol is eating this up.

Glimmer and Marvel finish the dead tribute removal while Cato starts setting up camp down near the edge of the lake. He unrolls a sleeping bag and places Clove on top of it gently. Then, he erects a large canopy over her to keep her out of the sun.

Their gruesome duty finished, Glimmer and Marvel start moving supplies out of the Cornucopia and into a large pile near the makeshift camp Cato has constructed. Weapons, clothing, food, whatever wasn't grabbed by the other tributes is all carefully collected and brought back to camp.

I'm wondering why the cameras are still lingering on the camp since they normally play back the bloodbath in slow motion about now, when Glimmer freezes briefly in mid bend. She picks up the packet of dried fruit with exaggerated casualness and I know that she's spotted something or more likely someone.

As if the Gamemakers are reading my mind, the camera cuts to the girl from District Nine, Ceres. She's crouched under a bush holding a hunting knife in one hand and watching the activity in the clearing with bright eyes. She must be waiting for the Careers to either go hunting for the other tributes so she can dart in and steal supplies or take out the person they leave behind or even just wait until nightfall when most of them will be sleeping and she could get the drop on them. It's not a bad strategy, if she were better at hiding. The way she's holding the knife tells me that what Glimmer likely saw was the sunlight reflecting off of the metal.

Glimmer takes the fruit back to camp then crouches down next to where Cato is tending to Clove. I can't hear it, but I'm sure she's telling him about the hidden tribute. They fuss about Clove while waiting for Marvel to rejoin them. When he does, they make a show of opening one of the packs and examining the contents. Then. Cato asks loudly if they'd seen any first aid kits in their searches.

"I think I saw one over there," Glimmer replies, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the hiding tribute.

"I'll get it," Marvel volunteers.

Cato looks like he wants to object but then Clove stirs and his eyes go to her. Marvel takes that as permission and grabs his spear and feigns using it like a walking stick. He gets within a few feet of where Ceres is hiding and then suddenly lunges forward and stabs down into the bush she's hiding in.

And misses.

Ceres screams in terror and lashes out with her knife. She grazes his shin and draws a thin line of blood. Marvel grunts and pulls back his spear, adjusts his aim, and thrusts it back into the bush. He scores a hit, skewering her through the leg. Ceres' screams turn from fear into pain. Marvel presses his advantage, jerking the weapon out and then bringing it back down again. This time it's fatal, slicing into Ceres' neck and severing her jugular. She dies quickly and her cannon sounds.

Another tribute down. Fourteen more to go before Prim can come home.

Marvel saunters back to the other three. "I made her squeal like a pig!"

"Ugh! Do you always have to play with your kills? It's annoying," Glimmer says, rolling her eyes.

"Aww, I'm just drawing out the fun," Marvel pouts. "Nothing wrong with that."

Glimmer rolls her eyes again and turns to Cato. "How is she?"

The blond boy checks her vitals and pulls up one of her eyelids. "I think she's going to be okay. I don't think she's got a concussion," he sounds worried. "She'll probably wake up in a few hours. Any clue who did this to her?" his voice lowers dangerously.

"Not me, bro," Marvel denies quickly. "I was too busy chasing down the meat. To pay any attention to you guys."

Glimmer shakes her head. "I don't know either."

"I know," a voice calls from several feet away.

The three Careers start. Almost as one they whirl, their hands reaching for weapons.

"Who said that?" Cato demands, brandishing a short sword.

Axel, the boy from Three, steps out from behind a tree. In his hands are what appear to be two wires held carefully apart. "I did."

"Oh goodie, another toy to play with," Marvel says with a grin.

Axel gives him a disdainful look. "Go ahead and try it, One. You really didn't think I'd be standing here talking to you if I didn't have a way to take you all out."

"How?" Glimmer asks.

"Trade secret," he says with a smirk.

Cato steps in front of the other two, motioning for them to back down. "You said you saw who hurt Clove."

"Finally someone comes to their senses," he mutters to himself. He regards Cato levelly before nodding. "I did see who took her down. But before I tell you, let me tell you what I want."

Cato's eyes narrow. "And what is that?" His voice is low and menacing.

Axel's smirk widens. "I want to join your alliance."

The three all exchange glances. Allying with the non-Career districts is almost unheard of. "What can you offer us?" Cato asks warily.

Axel nods toward the supply pile. "You fond of those? I can guard them for you while you hunt down the other tributes."

"And what's going to stop the other tributes from killing you? You aren't exactly the weapons type," Glimmer points out.

"Maybe I should have phrased it a little differently. I won't be guarding the supplies personally, but I can create something that will pack quite a surprise if someone comes by and tries to take anything."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Marvel wants to know.

The boy from Three regards the taller boy coolly. "Remember the mines that surround each pedestal?"

Glimmer nods. "Yeah. So what?"

The smirk turns into a full on feral grin. "My father designed them."

"Too bad your father isn't here," Marvel says snidely.

"And he showed me how to reactivate them," Axel continues as if he hadn't been interrupted, although the boy from Three does roll his eyes at Marvel's obliviousness. "I can set them up around the supply pile and that way we all can go hunting or get some sleep without having to worry about someone sneaking in and stealing our stuff."

"Our?" Marvel asks.

"We're going to be allies, right? It's either this or Lover Boy never knows who hurt his lady fair," Axel pulls out his trump card.

The three Careers exchange another series of looks with the two from District One shrugging after a few moments. It's Cato's call.

The boy from Two doesn't take very long to decide. "Fine. We're allies," Cato agrees. "Now tell me, who hurt Clove?"

Axel smiles wider, it isn't a pretty smile. "The boy from Twelve, Peeta. Took out the girl from Four too," he adds.

Cato growls low in his throat and turns to address Glimmer and Marvel. "Peeta's mine. I'm gonna kill him for even thinking of touching Clove."

"Fine, whatever. Can we eat now?" Marvel asks.

Glimmer nods and starts pulling out cans of soup from one of the crates of supplies. From the edge of the clearing, Axel rolls up the wire he is holding carefully. The commentators state the obvious, saying that One, Two and Three, have never allied before and that this is a first. Of course it is, One and Two generally kill Three.

"Hold on a moment, folks," Caesar says, interrupting Claudius waxing poetic about the beauty of the Games bringing Panem together. "I'm getting word that something exciting is going down elsewhere in the Arena."

Part of me hopes it's Prim, but a larger part of me wishes it isn't. This early in the Games only two things pull the action away from the Career Pack: imminent death or secondary alliance forming. It's rarely the latter.

The screen cuts to a small clearing, surrounded by a large stand of oak, birch and maple. Prim is seated with her back against a huge sweet birch. Her eyes are warily watching the forest around her. I can see she's got a small pouch of things that she'd managed to grab from the Cornucopia tied to her belt. I wish I knew what she had, but I can't make much out through the fabric. I wonder why the Gamemakers switched to her when she whistles out a simple four note tune. She waits for the nearby mockingjays to pick it up and carry it from tree to tree. Then, when the song dies down, she repeats the process.

She's obviously calling for someone, probably Peeta, to come find her. The melody is short enough that the mockingjays will pick it up but it's not so elaborate to be thought of as anything other than an odd bird's cry. Considering the mutts that are sure to be in the Arena, it isn't too far of a stretch to assume that at least one is avian in nature. It isn't a bad strategy for hooking up after the chaos of the bloodbath.

Still, even this strategy wouldn't be enough to pull the action away from the Careers. I'm searching what I can see of the woods when there is the loud sound of a twig snapping. Prim's head whips in that direction and she carefully stands up without making any noise.

Good girl, I think, until you know if it's friend or foe assume it's foe.

"Well, well, what have we here?" a low female voice calls out. "A scared little lamb, hiding under a tree." The girl steps out into the sunlight revealing Piper from District Ten. "Where's big brother?" she asks, looking around the clearing.

"He's close." Prim bluffs. I'm guessing they are talking about Peeta .

Piper tilts her head from side to side. "I think you're lying, little lamb." She drops a pack from her shoulder and pulls out a knife. "I think you're all alone and helpless. You know what we do to lambs back in Ten?" She stalks closer, her eyes never leaving my sister's form.

"What?" Prim asks while edging away from the predatory girl.

Piper bares her teeth. "We butcher them for the Capitol's pleasure."

"Poor lambs," Prim whispers, backing further away from her tree. The two circle the clearing until Prim is under a maple that doesn't look too hard to climb. If she can get a good jump, she might be able to get high enough fast enough to get out of Piper's reach.

Piper doesn't seem to realize this and seems willing to keep talking. Probably hoping to put on a good show to get sponsors.

The girl from Ten makes a come hither motion. "Why don't you come over here, little lamb, and I promise it will be quick and painless."

Prim shakes her head and then freezes as if she's noticed something. She opens her mouth to say something but only the faintest whisper comes out.

"What was that?" Piper asks, and the camera cuts back to her. Then I see it, the golden body shaped like a large wasp. Tracker jackers.

Caesar and Claudius break in to explain to the audience what the insects are as well as their lethality. But I tune them out partway through their explanation. I don't need them to tell me how dangerous they are, I already know.

It's clear from the expression on Prim's face, she's seen them too and knows what they can do. She tries again to get the words, likely a warning, out but fails. I can understand why, tracker jackers are attracted to loud sounds and once they decide that you're their prey, you can't escape them.

The commentators become quiet and all I hear is Prim's four note tune echo from the mockingjays.

Piper takes a step forward.

Prim takes a step back.

Another step forward.

A step to the side.

CRACK!

The whole nest of tracker jackers falls to the ground behind Piper. The screen erupts into chaos.

The insects, enraged by the fall, home in on Piper and start stinging her mercilessly. The girl from Ten shrieks, dropping her knife as she flees the genetically engineered wasps.

Prim, on the other side of the clearing, also flees. However, she takes the out I expected, climbing the maple. So far none of the insects have targeted her but she isn't taking any chances. She climbs until she is so high up in the branches that they're beginning to groan and crack under her weight. But she's clear of the swarm.

Piper doesn't make twenty steps before she collapses to the forest floor.

A cannon sounds.

The wasps continue stinging the girl long after she is dead. The corpse retrieval hovercraft comes to take the body but before they winch it up, someone inside drops a canister of smoke down beside the body. Almost as one, the tracker jackers drop to the ground around the dead tribute. The killers now as lifeless as their victim. Once the hovercraft crew is convinced it's safe, the claw lifts the girl from Ten's bloated and mutilated corpse into it.

The cameras cut back to Prim who's watching the whole thing with wide eyes. I can see she's shaking, from adrenaline or shock I don't know.

The four note theme repeats. Prim seems to shake herself and looks around. The tune plays again and this time it is very clear that it's a human whistle and not a bird call.

"Peeta? Rue?" Prim asks, then shakes her head. She returns the four note theme, peering through the branches expectantly.

"You okay?" a girl's voice asks and the camera zooms in on the little girl from Eleven, who's perched in the tree beside Prim's.

"Yeah," Prim replies.

"You didn't get stung, did you?" the little girl asks.

Prim shakes her head. "I don't think so. I would have felt it, right?"

Rue nods solemnly. "Oh yeah, you would have felt it. We got them in the orchards back home. Every month or so someone gets stung and they holler up a storm. See things too. There's leaves that help with the stings, but I haven't seen any yet."

"I'm lucky the nest didn't drop on me," my sister says earnestly.

The girl from Eleven pulls out a slingshot. "Luck didn't have anything to do with it."

Prim's eyes widen. "You did that? I owe you my life."

"You'd have done the same for me," Rue says, shrugging it off. "We should get down from here and go grab her pack and knife. No use letting them go to waste or having someone else find them."

Nodding at the girl's words, Prim starts to descend. "Have you seen Peeta?" she asks as she climbs down.

"No," Rue answers.

"I hope he made it," Prim says worriedly. "Haymitch told us to avoid the Cornucopia but I know Peeta was going in for supplies."

"He'll be fine," Rue soothes. "He's stronger than anyone other than Thresh and he's fast too. He probably just got lost."

"I hope so."

The girls reach the forest floor and carefully walk over to the girl from Ten's bag. They scoop it up but don't open it. Not yet. Handing Prim her bag, Rue grabs a long forked branch and uses it to pull the knife to her so as to avoid getting stung by any lingering tracker jackers. That's really smart.

I find myself liking the girl from Eleven. She's resourceful and reminds me of Prim in a way. It's likely their build and walk, on their toes like they are about to take off into flight, that are so similar but it is other things too. Like their identical expressions of curiosity as to what Piper's bag contains, that drive the similarity home.

The two girls move deeper into the forest until they find a fallen tree that has a little hollow under it. They plop down and pull out both packs and Prim's pouch. I smile. Now I can see what kind of supplies my sister netted for herself.

The loaf of bread comes out first and Prim tears a hunk off and then divides that hunk into two, offering the larger piece to Rue. The two chew their bread while inventorying the rest of their supplies. In Rue's pack, she has a thin black sleeping bag, a pack of crackers, a pack of dried beef strips, a bottle of iodine, a pack of wooden matches, a small coil of wire, an empty half gallon plastic jug, and a pair of strange glasses. Rue lets out a little happy cry at the glasses.

"What is it?" Prim asks.

"Night vision goggles. We have them back in Eleven to help with harvest when it's dark."

Prim nods but I can tell by her expression she has no idea what Rue means.

Prim's pouch is up next. My sister has managed to gather in addition to the bread, a pair of warm woolen socks, a square of plastic, a small plastic case holding four fishhooks and one lure, a small sewing kit with needle and thread, a pack of dried fruit, and in the pouch that almost got her killed by Clove is a roll of bandages, a few packs of salve, and a little bottle of pain reliever. Prim grabbed a first aid pouch. That is great since hopefully some of those little pouches contain anti-bacterial ointment or maybe even burn creme.

They open up Piper's pack next. She's got another thin sleeping bag, a coil of rope, a pack of paper matches, an empty liter bottle, a bottle of iodine, and a pack of dried prunes. Not quite as good as Rue's pack, but it's not bright orange either. The dark green color will blend in better. They don't have any weapons other than Piper's knife and Rue's slingshot. Rue hands the former to Prim in a gesture of trust that has me forming a lump in my throat.

The two girls divvy up the supplies between the two packs and work on covering Rue's with dirt and mud to disguise the bright color.

A light, tinkling sound distracts the girls from their task and they look up in surprise.

"A sponsorship gift?" Rue asks. "Already?"

"I hope it's water," Prim says, watching it float down. "I'm so thirsty, we haven't run into anything you don't think the lake's the only source do you?"

Rue grimaces. "Wouldn't surprise me. Keep the tributes confined to a smaller area so we can get killed faster." She pauses. "I think that's a twelve on the parachute."

"For me?" Prim's voice is excited. "I wonder what it could be." The silver parachute settles at Prim's feet and she picks up the little metal box. Once she touches it, the beacon stops making noise. Good, that could lead danger to them, I think. She opens the latch and inside is the ball of string I'd told Haymitch to order. It fits in her palm comfortably and she looks at it with an odd expression on her face.

"String?" Rue asks. "Why'd your mentor send you string?"

"I don't think this was Haymitch's idea," Prim says absently.

"Whose was it then? You don't have any other mentors."

"I think my sister, Katniss, sent me this."

"String?" Rue asks again incredulously.

"It's similar to the kind we use to make nets and snares back home." Prim smiles. "She knows I make better nets than her, if we can find water and it's got fish in it we aren't going to go hungry."

Rue seems to consider it. "Well, then I guess we owe your sister a thank you."

Prim nods and looks up at the sky. "Thank you, Katniss. I don't know what you had to do to get me this but thank you and everyone who helped you. I'll make good use of it."

I smile, my sister has gotten my gift and knows what to do with it. I'm happy.

"I'm glad she's got a friend in there," Madge says.

I look over at her. "There aren't friends in the Hunger Games. You know that."

"You think she does?" Madge asks quietly.

I sigh and shake my head. I know she's right, Prim probably thinks of both Rue and Peeta as her friends, not as obstacles to her coming home. I hope she doesn't have to kill them because I think that would break her.

"Come on," Rue says. "We should keep moving. Find water."

Prim nods and bites her lower lip. "Water normally flows downhill. So we should go down."

Rue looks around. "Which way is down?"

Prim shrugs. "I don't know, but I know a way to check." She hands Rue her pack and starts climbing a tree. She scales it nearly to the top before looking around. From her vantage, she should be able to see the subtle contours of the earth better than from down on the ground. It's something I showed her how to do if she was lost in the woods to find her way. I'm glad to see her using that knowledge now.

She shimmies down and points off to one direction. "That way seems to be lower than others."

"Do you know where the Cornucopia is?"

"I think so," she says with a nod.

"We're going to want to stay away from there."

"Agreed."

"Did you see any sign of your partner while you were up there?"

Prim shakes her head. "I hope he's alright."

"We should find water or another clearing and then start calling for him."

"Your whistling idea was a good one," Prim compliments.

Rue gives her a little hug. "I found you, didn't I?"

"Just in time too!"

"Come on, let's go!"

The camera follows them through the woods a little then cuts to Caesar and Claudius.

"Isn't that just the sweetest thing you've seen?" Caesar asks.

"Oh my, yes!" Claudius agrees. "Our two youngest tributes teaming up."

"And young Prim is the first to get a sponsorship gift. From the sister she volunteered for, no less."

Claudius sniffs. "That just warms my heart. I wonder if she'll send anything to her boyfriend, Peeta, who's also in the Arena."

The screen cuts to Peeta, who's walking through the woods. I can see that he's near the clearing that Rue and Prim were at earlier. But because of the weight of the large back frame he's carrying, he's moving slower to try to avoid making too much noise. Not that it's helping much. I can still hear every one of his footsteps. He still scaring away any game that's around him. I'm half grateful that I'm not in there with him because I'd be so frustrated with his inability to walk silently. Or maybe not.

He's wearing the gold mockingjay pin Madge gave me and I can see it glinting in the sunlight.

"So that's what you did with it," Madge says when she sees the pin.

I feel a twinge of guilt. "I hope you don't mind. I should have given it to Prim but I didn't remember I had it until I was in visiting with him. I wanted to give him something. So I wouldn't owe him quite so much."

"It's okay. I gave the pin to you. It was a gift. You can give to whoever you want."

A weight I didn't know I had lifts at Madge's words. "Thanks."

The camera zooms in and now I can tell he's been crying, there are tear tracks on his cheeks and his eyes are still red. I'm confused and apparently I'm not the only one. The announcers find it odd as well.

"It's because he killed that girl from Four," Madge says to the screen.

"What?" I ask, looking at her.

She smiles at me. "You don't know him as well as I do, but we used to play together as children, me, Delly and Peeta. He'd never tear the heads off our paper dolls like his brother Farl did. And when Farl did, Peeta'd always try to find tape to put them back together again. He's gentle. Kind. Like his dad. He's not a killer."

"The Games made him one," I point out.

"I know," she says sadly. "But I don't have to like it and neither does he."

I nod in agreement. No, we don't have to like it. We just have to watch it.

* * *

**AN:**

Written as Part of NaNoWriMo in November of 2012.

Revised 7/18/13

Beta Read by RoseFyre

Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
9. Ceres, District Nine, Killed by Marvel, Spear to the Neck  
10. Piper, District Ten, Killed by Rue, Dropped a Tracker Jacker Nest Behind Her

Up Next: The Envelope is opened and We find out what the rest of the tributes have been up to.


	12. Chapter Twelve - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

The camera flits between Rue and Prim and the Career Pack for a while, before the Gamemakers decide to show a slow motion recap of the bloodbath. Madge flicks off the screen and I stand up, stretching my back and hearing it pop loudly. It's been five hours since the Games began and I should be getting home. I thank Madge for allowing me to watch the start of the Games with her and she waves me off.

"You're my friend, Katniss. The only real one I have. It's what friends do, right?"

"Still, I appreciate it."

"It's okay. How about this? We'll watch the Games tomorrow at your house. I'll bring the bread, if you'll make the soup. That way we can be even."

I smile at her. For a merchant kid, she understands the complex system of debt in the Seam. She knows I don't like being in debt to anyone and she's giving me an out. "The food won't be as good," I warn.

She waves a hand. "Pfft! It'll be fine."

"Thanks again. I'll see you tomorrow."

She shows me to the door and gives me a quick hug. I'm not normally a hugging kind of person, but I accept it. She seems to need it and she's right, we are friends. She didn't have to watch with me today and I know the only reason why she's doing it is because she cares. We just don't voluntarily watch the Games in Twelve. Then I'm forced to revise that thought, because there are those few outcasts who do. They're the same people who bet on whose name will be called at the Reaping.

My mother is home when I get there. She's kneading tesserae bread and I can see that there are pots of various things cooking on the stove.

"Whatcha making?" I ask while taking off my boots.

She answers without looking up. "Bread, soup and pickles."

"What kind of soup?"

"Fish."

"And what kind of pickles?"

"Fish," she says, looking up at me with a smile.

"So that's the smell." Then something she says strikes me. We'd canned and preserved everything from my trips from the forest yesterday and all of the fish I'd gotten were now pickled and sitting in clear glass jars along the shelf over the sink. "Where'd you get the fish?" I ask.

My mother sighs, as if she knows I'm not going to like the answer. "Gale brought them."

And she's right. My temper flares. "I told him, I didn't need his help!"

"Katniss..." my mother tries but I ignore her.

"I'm going to take his guilt fish back to him along with a piece of my mind." I move back toward my boots and the door.

"You are going to do no such thing!" my mother snaps. "The fish were a peace offering. To me. Not you. Gale was apologizing to me."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because Hazelle told him to, I expect. Or maybe he realized he owed me an apology after how he's been these last few months."

"He owes me one too," I say a little petulantly.

"Yes," she agrees. "But yours is a little harder for him. He doesn't know what to say that won't set you off and he's too proud to fully admit he screwed up with you. You're both so alike."

"I know," I say with a nod. "It's why it hurts so much that we aren't friends and he can't understand why I don't want to have him be anything more than a friend."

"He doesn't understand because he doesn't want to understand," she says cryptically. "So, are you hungry now or do you want to wait for the stew and bread to be ready?"

I could eat, but I'm actually more tired than hungry. "I can wait. I think I'm going to take a nap."

She nods, going back to her kneading.

The bread dough reminds me of something, and I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the bag of cookies. "Before I forget, the baker gave me these."

"What are they?" she asks.

"Cookies. With our flowers on them."

My mother sighed. "Matz is a good man. But he needs to stop trying so hard."

I'm confused but I continue. "He also gave me an envelope from Peeta."

"What was in it?"

"I don't know. I haven't opened it yet."

She nods in understanding. Without knowing what's inside, I don't want to open it in public. I go back to my jacket and pull the envelope out. In slanted block letter is my name written in light pencil. The envelope is the size of one of the greeting cards that the stationer sells in town, probably reused from either a birthday or New Year's card.

I sit down at the table and look at it nervously. I'm afraid there's going to be some kind of love letter or other dramatic demonstration of love. I open the flap which is just tucked in and pull out the contents of the envelope: six scraps of paper. The smallest is no bigger than my palm and appears to be the corner of a larger sheet of paper. The largest is maybe the size of a piece of stationary - carefully folded in half once and slipped inside.

I pick up the smallest one first. It's a faint pencil sketch of a little girl in a checkered dress with two braids singing. The little girl appears to be no more than five or six and she's got a sweet expression on her face.

Putting it to the side, I pull another slip to me. This one has a girl on it with a long braid seated at a school desk looking out the window. The girl seems familiar to me. When I pull the third over, a rough sketch of a pre-teen girl picking a dandelion, it hits me. The sketches are of me!

The fourth picture is of me, huddled in the rain, starving and dying on the day he gave me the bread. There's one of me leaning against the bakery counter in the workroom rubbing my slightly protruding stomach lightly. That one must have been sketched right before the Reaping. I only started to show about three weeks ago.

All that's left is the largest piece of paper. With shaking hands, I open it. It's not a letter like I'd thought, but one last sketch. The only one with more than just me in the picture. It's got to be the last day of school this year because Prim and I are both wearing short sleeves. She's looking up at me with her hair in twin braids laughing and I'm looking down at her and smiling. You can clearly see the contentment and love between Prim and me and I let out a choked sob.

My mother comes over to see what's wrong and she too lets out a gasp. "Where did you get these?" she asks.

"They were in the envelope Peeta left."

"They're lovely. Do you think he drew them?"

"He must have. I don't know who else would."

My mother touches the one of me singing when I was a little girl. "I remember that dress. Your first day of school. I had to fight to get you into it. You wore it once and then never again."

"I'm not a dress kind of girl," I say wryly.

"Or maybe it wasn't the right kind of dress. It doesn't matter."

I look through the sketches again. "I don't think he meant for me to have these. They feel personal. Private."

"It had your name on it," she points out practically.

I flip the envelope over and run my fingers over the lettering. "I think it was more a label than a delivery request."

"Maybe, but what do you want to do about it now?"

I stare down at the pictures. "I don't know. It doesn't feel right to keep them. Still, at the same time I don't think I can just go give them back to the baker."

"So throw them out."

The suggestion sickens me. Especially in regards to the picture he drew of me and Prim. We don't have cameras in the Seam and only a few people have them at all in Twelve. If for some reason Prim doesn't make it, I want something to remind me of her in happier times.

"That doesn't feel right either," I say.

"I didn't think it would. But you just can't sit there forever staring at them."

I look at the picture of Prim and me and ask, "Do you think he'd mind if we hang these up?"

My mother smiles. "I think he'd like that."

I carefully tack up the six pictures on one wall. They would look better framed, but this will have to do for now. I step back and am unable to suppress a large yawn.

"Take a nap, Katniss."

"I don't want to miss anything."

My mother nods at the screen. "They're still showing recaps. Occasionally flashing up to the kids in the Cornucopia clearing. But mostly it's all recaps and a few interviews with former victors about who they think are the favorites."

"Any surprises?"

She shrugs. "Finnick Odair is picking Peeta to win."

"That's probably because he took out Finnick's tribute," I point out.

"Maybe. But it's still the most interesting. The rest of the victors interviewed are going with Cato or Glimmer."

"Not Marvel or Clove?"

"No. Enobaria thinks that Clove is weak and should be put down now before she weakens Cato further. And Cashmere and Gloss are both praising Glimmer's skill with the bow and her ability to hold the alliance together."

I wrinkle my nose thinking of Glimmer's shooting earlier. "She's not that good of an archer."

"Not compared to you or your father."

I snort. "Prim's better than her. That was an easy shot to the body from fairly close."

"Still, they don't know that. Go get some sleep, I'll wake you if they go back to Prim or if Mandatory Viewing comes on."

I nod and slip into my bed, almost as soon as my head hits the pillow I am asleep. My dreams are filled with visions of Prim shooting the boy from Seven and Peeta crying. It is disturbing and not all that restful.

My mother shakes me awake to tell me that it's time for me to wake up. Mandatory Viewing is about to start and dinner is ready.

I nod and rub the sleep from my eyes. I'm suddenly ravenous anyway. It's strange being pregnant. I go from food sounding disgusting to suddenly wanting to eat everything. I'm so used to always being hungry that the latter is not that unusual but the not wanting to eat is. I raise one arm and look at it. I can see my veins blue and thin under my skin even with the light tan that I've picked up from being outside. I can also see very clearly the bones in my wrists and hands. I know I'm too thin. Almost dangerously thin. But I can't seem to put on weight.

I get up and go to the table where my mother's set out the bread and a large bowl of soup. I try not to slurp it down like a starving animal but I'm still eating way too fast. My mother smiles at me and hands me another slice of bread. I take it gratefully and spread a little goat cheese on it before biting into it.

When the Games are on, Mandatory Viewing is always a recap of the day's events. First, they play the highlights of the day so those people who missed them on the original airing can catch up. Then, they show a quick reel of all of the surviving tributes' actions, for many of the districts this is the only way we know what is going on with our tributes until they die since the Gamemakers focus so much on the Careers. Finally, there is the "Tribute to the Fallen" section where each tribute that dies that day is spotlighted over a specially chosen song for this year. For days like the bloodbath, they reuse previous years' songs as necessary but each tribute gets at least a minute and a half of airtime even if they didn't survive that long in the Arena. This is the end of Mandatory Viewing although most people stick around to watch what comes after, the exit interviews with the mentors whose tributes died. For the first time in as long as I can remember, Haymitch Abernathy is not going to be one of the mentors interviewed.

Currently, they are replaying the highlights of the day's events. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Prim getting the ball of string and I'm reminded that I didn't tell my mother that my sponsorship gift got to her. "Prim got the gift," I say almost unnecessarily.

"I see that. It's a good choice."

"I hope they find water soon. Otherwise, it's not going to be a lot of use."

"I'm sure they will. Prim's a smart girl and she's with that girl from Eleven."

"Yeah..."

"Shh... they're about to do the tribute recaps," my mother shushes me.

As always they start with One. Glimmer, Marvel, Clove, Cato and Axel all go by very quickly. Only three things are new to me. One is what Axel did to booby trap himself. The second is of him actually digging up the mines and replanting them around the pile of supplies. The third is the Careers deciding to hold off on going hunting for more tributes in order to give Clove time to recover. The decision annoyed Marvel, but Glimmer calmed him down by pointing out that some tributes might have to come to them because of the lake.

Next they show the girl from Five, Uranium. She followed much the same tactic as Ceres and hid out by the Career camp. Unlike Ceres, she didn't get caught. She was obviously disappointed to hear that the pack wasn't going hunting which tells me that she'd planned on going in to get supplies then. Considering that she knows where all of the hidden mines are and watched Axel show Glimmer, Marvel and Cato how to navigate them she could have gotten away with it.

Tacoma is next. After her time in the bloodbath, she spent most of the day hightailing it away from the clearing and up into the woods. She finally called it quits by a jumble of rocks where she set up camp.

The girl from Eight, Taylor, is next. She's scored a small pack from the Cornucopia and like Tacoma also hightailed it out of the clearing. She however seemed to stop every so often to fish out something of the pack to eat and have a good cry. She's not as pathetic as Grata was, but she's close.

Jace from Nine unwittingly followed Thresh into the wheat field. While he had a backpack when he'd entered the field, he dropped it when Thresh charged at him scaring him. The boy tore off through the field and up the side of the cliff into the woods beyond. When he eventually stopped running, Jace was well and truly lost. He spent the rest of the day walking in circles.

The boy with the lame foot, Clint, proved as good as his word. He may have a limp, but that didn't slow him down or affect his agility very much. I caught my breath when he followed after Rue for a little bit, but then he lost her when she climbed a tree and started jumping from tree to tree like an oversized squirrel. He eventually gave up tracking her and walked off in the other direction to try to find water.

After the Cornucopia, Thresh collected the dropped bag from Jace and headed out further into the wheat field. Along one edge, he found a small cave that he put all of his supplies into. Then, with a knife he grabbed from the Cornucopia, he cut down the stalks of wheat near the opening to his cave so that people couldn't sneak up on him. After he finished that task, he pulled the heads off to shuck, piling the stalks onto the floor of his cave and made himself what looked to be a fairly comfortable bed.

Rue and Prim are next. The two continued their hunt for water. Unfortunately for them, they didn't find any. However Rue was able to find some juicy berries which helped a little. They also routinely stopped to whistle the simple four note tune. They never heard a return call. The two ended the day climbing two large trees and setting up their sleeping bags up there, Prim cutting off some rope to give to Rue to lash herself in. They didn't bother with giving Prim a section since she and Rue did everything together.

Finally they showed Peeta. He'd managed to stop crying but it was clear he was still very upset about the events at the Cornucopia. Unlike most of the tributes, he had a little water from the supplies that he'd managed to gather. Not much but some. He spent a lot of the day listening for the mockingjay calls. It was only as the sun started going down that he finally heard Rue and Prim's whistle echoed by the birds. He whistled the call, and I wince at an off note. Apparently the birds didn't like it either, since they didn't bother to mimic it. He sighed and walked at bit more determinedly in the direction he heard the call from.

Only once it was too dark did he stop for the night. He rolled under a bush and pulled a blanket out from the pack. From there, he watched the anthem play in the Arena and the faces of the tributes who died that day flash up. He winced when Coral's face flashed up but I can also see the relief on it. I guess he thought he'd also killed Clove. Not seeing her face in the sky was bit of a reprieve for him.

The producers take that last bit as a segue into the "Tribute to the Fallen" segment and I tuned out again. I've already seen all of the deaths from today and none of them are ones I want to relive. My mother seems to sense this because she turns down the volume again. We can't turn the television off, the option is disabled and tampering with that feature is considered a hanging offense. But so long as the television is on, you don't have listen to it.

My mother places the iced cookie the baker gave me earlier in the day in front of me. I take it and look up at her. "Why does he keep giving us these?"

"Matz is a good man. A kind one and if I hadn't met your father, I'd probably be married to him," she says simply biting into the cookie with little violets on it.

"What happened?"

"Your father, obviously. Once I met Solomon that was it, I knew he was the man for me. I broke it off with Matz and the rest, as they used to say, is history."

"But why is he still so nice to us? Why Father used to trade squirrels with him!"

Smiling softly in remembrance, my mother says, "That's just the kind of man Matz is. He doesn't hold a grudge and he really is that kind. But he's sometimes too kind. Too willing to forgive a fault. It's the only reason I can think of why he's still with Muffy."

Muffy is the baker's wife and Peeta's mother. She's a mean, shrewish woman who was once considered a beauty a long time ago as the furrier's daughter. She was considered quite a catch before she got knocked up by the baker at the eighteen year old final reaping celebration. Now age and anger have made that beauty long since vanish. She's cruel to two of her sons, Bing who she blames for forcing her into marriage and Peeta, whom I've heard her call 'a mistake.' Only her middle son Farl gets any form of affection from her leaving the baker to pick up the slack.

I understand why my mother thinks he should leave her. But I can understand why he doesn't. Divorce isn't allowed out here in the districts, but separation is more common and allowed. I've read that in the Capitol, people get married and divorced as easily as someone might change clothes. It's another difference between the Capitol and the Districts.

They finish up the memoriam section of Mandatory Viewing, I only heard part of it but this year's tune is called "On the Wings of Glory." I hope I never have to hear that song play for my sister.

Thus the first day of the Games comes to an end and I'm exhausted. I can imagine that Prim is even more tired than I am and I send out my thoughts to her, hoping that she'll feel them and not give up.

She's got several more days she's going to have to get through. I hope she's able to hang on.

* * *

**AN:**

Written as Part of NaNoWriMo in November of 2012.

Revised 7/18/13

Beta Read by RoseFyre

This is a pretty transitional chapter. I needed to cover a few things, namely how the Games are shown on television. It's kind of like Olympic coverage nowadays with the most interesting parts saved for Prime Time viewing and live coverage airing at various times throughout the day. And like Olympic coverage, what is showing is often interrupted when something exciting happens at other venues.

Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.

None!

Up Next: Peeta and Prim reunite.


	13. Chapter Thirteen - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

The morning comes and I turn on the television while I start my day. At the top of each hour there's a quick recap of what's happened, if anything, by a young reporter with bright green hair and matching ivy tattoos on her cheeks. The person reading these is always young and always far too cheerful for my tastes. As much as they annoy me at times, I prefer Caesar and Claudius. But they only take over in the early afternoon and through Mandatory Viewing. The rest of the Games are narrated by novice newscasters.

Thankfully not much has happened while I've been sleeping. Both Prim and Rue have gotten up and done their morning routines. Thankfully the Gamemakers don't show tributes pooping and peeing, probably to preserve the delicate Capitol sensibilities which can watch someone be brained to death with a rock but can't stand to watch someone take care of a bodily function. Still, it's something. I don't know if I could stand to watch that.

Prim climbs another tree and shouts down that she thinks she sees water. I hope so for her sake. The berries yesterday staved off some of the worst of the dehydration, but both she and Rue need water. As they walk toward where they think Prim saw water, they whistle the four note theme. Occasionally one or both of them will spot a plant that they know is edible and gather it. Good for them. The more food they can gather, the less they will need to rely on sponsors or their supplies to survive.

From where he camped a few miles away, Peeta gets an early start. From the circles under his eyes, I suspect his sleep was plagued by nightmares. I feel sorry for him, from what Madge told me and what I've observed he's a kind, gentle soul. But kind, gentle souls don't last long in the Arena. Peeta seems to understand this, but he doesn't like it. I don't think any of us likes it. It's just one more thing that the Capitol takes away from us.

Peeta seems to have given up trying to whistle Rue and Prim's tune and is instead following the mockingjay song. He's getting closer, according to the announcers, his longer stride and fewer stops have gotten him less than a mile from the girls. When he hears the whistle again, he picks up his pace, trying and failing to duplicate that simple tune. He just can't seem to get that low final note but he keeps trying anyway.

The girls finally hear him, or rather hear the mockingjays stop repeating their tune an hour later. I can see the relief on my sister's face and even Rue looks pleased. They call his name, urging him to find them. I want to scream at them that it could be a trap, but I know my sister, she's not wary enough to suspect that people don't have good intentions.

When they catch sight of him, Prim drops all pretense of waiting and flies toward the older boy. A smile blossoms across Peeta's face and he catches her in his arms and hoists her high over his head, swinging her around in circles. Prim spreads her arms wide, trusting him fully to keep her from falling. It's a breathtaking sight.

He lowers her gently to the ground and gives her a large hug. He's as relieved as she is that they've reunited. The commentator is cooing that they must be so close because Peeta is dating me. That's not it at all, it's just that my sister really is that loveable.

Rue has been hanging back shyly and Peeta finally notices her. He untangles an arm from Prim and motions for Rue to come join the hug. She only hesitates for a moment before running over to him. He pulls her to him and the three stay there for a few minutes just basking in the joy at having found each other.

It's Prim who finally pulls away. "Where have you been, Peeta? I was afraid something happened to you."

"I told you I was going to get supplies," he says.

"But you didn't say it would take that long!" she protests, stamping her foot. "We were worried that someone killed you!"

A pained expression crosses Peeta's face. "Well, you can see I'm fine."

Prim inspects him. Other than a few scratches from sleeping under a bush, he's uninjured. "Well, if you say so." She doesn't sound convinced but she's giving Peeta the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm glad you two found each other and are okay," Peeta says, changing the subject to distract my sister from him.

Prim huffs and places her hands on her hips. "I almost wasn't! The girl from Ten found me and if weren't for Rue's quick thinking I wouldn't be here."

I can see the guilt that flashes across Peeta's face. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, Prim," he says contritely. Then he turns to the dark skinned girl from Eleven. "Thank you for being there for her when I wasn't."

Rue blushes. "It's okay. We're a team, right? You'd do the same for me."

"Of course I would!" he answers and I know he means it.

Rue seems to know it too because she gives him another hug and says, "Then don't worry about it. Nothing happened and we got another pack out of it."

Peeta nods, but I can see that he's unconvinced. I also can guess that he's going to be blaming himself for not being there. I know that is what I would be doing if I were in his shoes.

Prim interrupts Peeta's brooding. "Do you have any water? We haven't had any since before the Games started."

"Yeah, a little," Peeta says with a nod. "I don't have much so you'll have to be careful with it. No telling when we'll find more."

"Prim thinks that she saw water off that way," Rue says pointing toward the west.

A ghost of a smile crosses Peeta's face. "Good. When you're done, one of you will need to climb a tree to see if we're still on track."

Rue nods. "I'll do it now. Then get my water."

While Rue's climbing, Prim asks, "What really happened back there? No lies. You promised."

"I had to kill the girl from Four, I didn't want to but she came at me with a knife and I just reacted." He bites his lower lip and I can see from his expression that he's fighting to hold back tears.

Prim must see it too because my sister gives him another hug. "You did what you had to do to survive."

"I know. But I wish I didn't have to kill her. I wish," he says in a voice thick with unshed tears, "I didn't have to change who I was just to survive these Games. I'm okay with dying just so long as I don't let them change me. I've been telling myself that ever since my name was called. Now, I don't know if I'll still be the same man that I was when I entered."

Prim pulls back and stares into his face. "Just so long as you keep saying that the Games made you do this, it'll be okay. You wouldn't have done it otherwise."

"I don't know, Prim. I'm afraid of what your sister will think of me now that I'm a killer." I'm confused. I don't know why my opinion would matter.

"I think Katniss would understand," she says solemnly. "Especially since she knows you're doing this to keep both of us alive."

Peeta pulls back. "Remember, Prim, only one of us gets to go home," he reminds her gently.

She looks up at him sadly. "I wish it didn't have to be like that."

Peeta manages to get his emotions back under control although I can see that they're simmering just under the surface. "Me too. But unless they change the rules, it's how it's going to be," he says fatalistically. "So don't get your hopes up. I mean to make sure that you can go home to your sister and that's that."

My eyes widen at his very public declaration. First that he even told Prim about his intention to make sure she survives. And second that he would say it where the whole country and Capitol can hear it. It plays up the whole tragedy of the Games. I'm even surprised that the Gamemakers aired that little conversation, but maybe they didn't think it was inflammatory enough or maybe they're only saying what everyone already knows: twenty four tributes go in, only one comes out.

Prim just nods at him, like they've had this conversation before. They likely have, since it's clear that they intended on teaming up from the start. "Katniss sent me some string," Prim says changing the subject.

"Good!" Peeta says, his voice actually full of genuine pleasure. "You really did well at the knot tying station in training so we should be able to snare some good food. I'm also glad Katniss was able to raise enough money to help us out. Sending that string to you was the best thing she could do."

"I know. I hope it didn't cost too much, though." She looks concerned. I can guess she's worried I won't have enough for when the baby arrives.

"I'm sure she had lots of help," Peeta soothes.

"Yeah, Gale," Prim says with a sniff.

"He's your sister's friend, Prim," he chides her gently.

"I suppose. But he's not as good as you," she says heatedly.

Peeta smiles at my sister. "Thanks for saying that. But I'm just glad that she's got someone to rely on while we can't be there, you know?"

Prim wrinkles her nose at him and takes a sip of water from the bottle Peeta hands her.

Rue rejoins the two on the ground and Peeta hands her the water. She takes a grateful sip before speaking. "Prim was right. There is water. I can't see how much but it's about five hundred yards or so that way." She points with one arm.

"Let's grab our stuff and get going. I'd like to get water and then see about finding a secure place to make camp."

The girls nod and grab their gear. Rue takes the lead with Peeta bringing up the rear. They don't say anything while they walk, intently listening for the sound of water. After about twenty minutes they start to hear water running over rocks and then Rue gives a little cry as she spots the glint of water through the trees.

They slow down, becoming wary of walking into a trap and Peeta breaks off three branches, one for each of them, to use to poke the ground ahead of them. They spread out but within arms' length of each other. It's a smart move because Peeta's stick finds a patch of quicksand. In the wild, quicksand is rarely deadly, it's just not deep enough to go over someone's head in most cases. However, this is an Arena and the Gamemakers like to put deadly surprises around places like lakes, streams, and pools to trap and kill unwary tributes. Peeta carefully finds the edges of the trap and marks them with a series of symbols low to the ground on the trees nearest the hole. They continue like this for the rest of the way to the edge of the woods, finding two more quicksand pools along the way. When they break out into the sun and take in the water source they all breathe a collective sigh of relief. It's a spring flowing into a decent sized pond with water lilies, cattails and katniss surrounding it.

It's a survivalist's dream.

The girls pull out their water bottles and get to filling them up while Peeta looks around and takes in the terrain. The spring is located in a small depression in the surrounding terrain. Further to the west there's a sharp cliff jutting up out of the landscape. There are a few dark spots that might be caves along the cliff and I see Peeta eyeing them with interest. It makes sense. Like Thresh's wheat field, this is a defensible location with water and food nearby.

Prim gives a little cry and immediately Peeta tenses up, ready to leap into battle. But she's not hurt, she's excited.

"Look, Rue!" she says pointing into the pool. "Fish!" My heart leaps. That pond has just gone from dream to heaven.

There's a knock on my door and I tear myself away from the Games to answer it. It's Madge bearing a large paper bag. "You're early," I greet, glancing at the clock to make sure I haven't accidentally lost track of time and find it's only eleven.

"I figured you wouldn't have eaten breakfast yet," she answers, reaching into the bag and pulling out a blueberry muffin and placing it in my hands. "Tell me I'm wrong."

I stare at her then make a rueful face. The fact is, she is right. I haven't eaten. I got so caught up in the Games that I forgot to eat when I first got up and that was hours ago. "Thanks," I say and take a bite. The muffin is soft, moist and delicious and suddenly I want to shove the whole thing in my mouth. I restrain myself and step back to invite Madge in.

I go into the kitchen area and pull out our old teapot to make some tea. Mint, not the expensive stuff sold at either the apothecary or general store.

Madge follows me and sets her bag on the counter. "So guess who I saw on my way here?"

"I don't know. Who?"

She pouts at me. "You're supposed to guess!"

"You know I never play these games."

"Fine," she gives in with an eye roll. "I saw Gale."

"You know he came over here the night of the interviews angry at me about Peeta," I tell her.

She nods her head. "I guessed. Pretty much got confirmed when he cornered me wanting to know what I knew about Peeta. If he was a stand up guy. That kind of thing."

I sigh. "He's acting like a possessive ass."

"I don't know," Madge says thoughtfully. "Maybe that's part of it. But I wonder if part of it isn't genuine concern."

"Why do you say that?"

"This is Twelve, Katniss. A lot of Seam girls and women have merchant lovers, the ones that aren't brave enough or desperate enough to go to the Peacekeepers. I think in his own overprotective way he's trying to look out for you."

"I don't need or want him to look out for me. I can look out for myself!" I can feel the annoyance in me rising.

"Are you going to stop looking out for Prim?" she asks pointedly.

I glance guiltily at the screen where Prim is making a net out of the string I sent her while Rue is gathering up various plants to eat and Peeta stands guard. "I don't know if I can stop. She's my little sister."

"And as much as I hate to say it, he's the father of the baby you're carrying. And you're his best friend. He's not going to stop caring about you overnight just because you've had some fights." She pauses. "I am assuming you two fought."

I laugh. "I think that's putting it mildly. I don't want to marry him and he won't stop pushing me." It's just so frustrating.

"I think that's because Gale's always been the responsible one. Look at him with his brothers and sister. They're almost like they're his own kids," she points out.

"Posy especially," I say in agreement.

"Exactly. Now he's having one for himself. Naturally he's going to be a little protective and that's going to spill over to you."

"But he should know that I don't need protecting! We've been hunting together for years," I exclaim, exasperated.

"Doesn't matter. Not to him. I don't say I agree with it, but if you look at it from his perspective it makes sense."

It does make sense and I hate that it makes sense. But Madge is a good friend for pointing this out to me. "How do I get him to look at things from my perspective?"

She raises her eyebrows and her lips twitch upward. "If I knew the answer to that, do you think I'd still be single? At least you're one up on me, you've got two someones who want you."

It's meant to come across as light-hearted but I can hear the pain in Madge's voice. It's true, no one's shown any interest in her. Being the Mayor's daughter doesn't lead to an exciting social life. "Give it time. Who knows, maybe Gale will stop moaning about me and latch on to you," I tease. I can't see Gale and Madge being friends let along boyfriend and girlfriend. Not with his class prejudices and her father's position.

She wrinkles her nose. "Thanks, but I'll pass. He's handsome and all, but he's really not my type."

The water is ready and I pour us both a cup of tea. "So what is your type?"

"I'll tell you when I know what it is," she admits ruefully.

I look down at my stomach. "I want to keep Gale for a friend. Even as angry as I am with him right now, I miss him."

"I know." She takes a sip of her tea.

"I want my baby to grow up knowing its father."

"I know," Madge repeats, blowing on the tea to cool it.

I look over at my friend. "Why does he have to make it so hard?"

She sets her teacup down. "I don't know. But from his perspective you're the one making it hard," she points out, pulling two loaves of bread out of the bag she brought and handing them to me.

"I know." I take them and note that one is the same kind of bread that Peeta gave me all those years ago. "You know this whole thing with Peeta isn't helping. Did you know he was in love with me?"

Madge nodded. "I did. Or at least I suspected."

"How?" I want to know. Did everyone know Peeta's feelings for me before I did?

"Remember how I said we used to play together?"

"Yeah?" I answer with a nod.

"He never wanted to play house with me, because I was and I quote, 'Not the girl he wanted to marry' end quote. I finally asked him who he wanted to marry and he got all flustered and mumbled out something about the girl who could make the birds listen. It wasn't until I heard you out singing with Prim in the Meadow a few months ago that I realized who he was talking about."

A horrible thought crosses my mind. "Do you like Peeta?"

"You mean, like like?" she asks.

I nod.

She shakes her head. "No. He's my friend and I can't picture him like that for me. In my mind, he's always been yours even though you never knew you had him."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask.

She shrugs, picking her mug back up and taking another sip. "It wasn't my place. Besides, I didn't have any real proof. That would have been embarrassing if you'd confronted him and he went, 'Oh no, I don't like you. I like Prinny Sparrow,'" Madge says naming a girl in our year whose singing voice is notoriously horrid. "I mean imagine the mortification you would have felt. I was sparing you, really."

"Thanks for that," I say drily.

"Anyway, it's not like you really need to worry about Gale right now," Madge says leaning against the counter. "I mean the guy he's all worked up over has out and out said he's going to die for your sister."

"You saw that this morning, huh?"

"Right before I left, yeah," she says with a nod. "I figured that you weren't going to eat until they stopped focusing on Prim, Peeta and that girl from Eleven."

"Rue." I fill in the name and give my friend a little sheepish smile. "And yeah, I sort of forgot all about food until you showed up."

Madge grins at me. "You're welcome." She pauses taking another sip of tea. "So really, Gale doesn't have to worry much about the competition. At least not from Peeta, because if he's the winner of the Games I doubt you'll have much to do with him and Peeta's pretty much aware of that."

I nod. They're both right, I wouldn't be able to look at Peeta without seeing Prim. It'd take an order from President Snow himself for me to have anything to do with him, much less consider dating him.

"So just wait until the Games are over and things will straighten themselves out. Both you and Gale are under a lot of stress because of these Games."

"Yeah," I agree.

When we sit down, I note that the action has changed over to the Career camp. Clove is sitting up and Cato is anxiously trying to get her to eat something.

"Please, Clove ,you've been out all day!"

She pushes away the soup bowl he's holding. "I told you I'm not hungry. What happened?" she asks.

Glimmer pipes up, "The dork from Twelve did a number on you."

"So why aren't I dead?"

"Rookie mistake," Glimmer answers with a shrug. "Lucky for you. He took out Coral."

Clove looks more annoyed than sad that her ally was killed. "Sucks for her. Also going to really suck for him," she says with a cruel smirk on her face.

"Why's that?" Marvel asks from where he's keeping an eye on the final member of their alliance, Axel.

Her eyes glint with something akin to anticipation. "I'm going to make him wish he was killed at the Cornucopia instead of Coral."

* * *

**AN:**

Written as part of NaNoWriMo in November 2012.

Revised 7/22/13

Beta Read by Rose Fyre.

Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
None!

Up Next: The Gamemakers unleash a little hell.


	14. Chapter Fourteen - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Spectator**

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

Unfortunately for her, Clove couldn't even attempt to make good on her threat that day. When she tried getting up, she got all woozy and nearly fainted. Cato caught her and vetoed going out hunting again that day. The Capitol has to be getting annoyed at the lack of deaths today. Granted, they have another alliance to hold people over, but it's still not interesting watching.

After the focus of the morning, they don't bother going back to Peeta, Rue and Prim. Instead they focus on the growing tension between the Career Pack. Cashmere was right, Glimmer is about the only thing holding it together at this point. Marvel is about ready to strike out on his own and Axel is still fiddling with wires and mines while glancing at the other four warily.

I spend most of the afternoon talking with Madge. It turns out she talked her mother into giving me the maternity clothes that her mother had stuffed in the back of her closet. I'm grateful for them. While they still are too big for me, that is something easily fixed. My own clothes are starting to become too tight across the middle and bust. The fact that I even have a bust now takes some getting used to.

Madge goes home after Mandatory Viewing. Most of the tributes spent the day much like Prim, Peeta and Rue, looking for water. Uranium has staked out a little place by the Career camp and the lake and is for the most part subsisting on cattails and dandelion greens. It's obvious her strategy is to raid from the Careers but with them refusing to go out hunting, she's stuck. Thresh is doing well for himself. There's a seep in the back of his cave for him to get water so he doesn't need to go anywhere. He's trapping rodents for meat and making the seed heads of the wheat into a mush. He's doing fine.

My mother doesn't come home until late, someone fell off a ladder while repairing a leaking roof and was knocked unconscious and additionally broke their wrist. She has a few baby clothes as payment. Must be from one of the miner families with older kids. I'd rather have her be paid in food, but that is rare. Mostly we get random stuff that the merchants won't buy and they are too afraid to go to the Hob to trade. Those who do trade at the Hob will generally pay my mother in chits, one tenth of one coin printed on a dyed wood and stamped with the Capitol seal. Counterfeiting is an offense punishable by death, not to mention being near impossible out here in Twelve.

We have dinner, more fish stew, and go to bed. She's too tired to talk and I talked myself out with Madge earlier.

The next day I get breakfast before I turn on the television. I don't want a repeat of yesterday. A slice of toasted bread smeared with goat cheese and jam should be enough. My mother's put a note on a bottle of Lady's milk for me to drink. I really am not fond of milk but I drink it anyway. Then make some mint tea to wash away the taste.

I turn on the television and they're still showing the Career camp. Apparently not much has happened overnight and this is causing some serious tension between the group. Marvel is pacing back and forth like a caged animal and Glimmer is trying to talk sense into him.

"I don't see why we can't kill that weakling now and be done with it!" the tall Career growls.

The blond girl tries to talk some sense into him. "We need them for now. At least until we take care of the girl from Seven and the boys from Eleven and Twelve. You saw how easily Eleven took down Reef. And Twelve took out one of us almost two. They're strong, it's better to go after them as a group then by yourself."

"I could take them!" he protests.

"Sure you could, but without getting seriously hurt? Be honest with yourself," she cautions. "It's better to take them out as a group. And who knows, maybe one of them will take out some other competition in their death throes."

Marvel turns to glare at the makeshift tent Cato's erected. "I am sick of waiting for her to get better. He should kill her and be done with it. It's not like both of them can win."

"I tried broaching that with him," Glimmer admits. "He won't listen. I think that in his mind if he does a good enough of a job, performs better than expected, the Gamemakers might just reward him by letting her live. I think she's more aware of the reality of things but she's not ready to die yet." She pauses and gives Marvel a warning look. "You do know she's sleeping with her knives now."

He shakes his head. "No, I didn't. Thanks for the warning."

She shrugs away the thanks. "I figured you deserved it."

"Still, I want to get out of this camp. I'm going crazy!" He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Glimmer shrugs again. "So go," she says indifferently. "Set some snares. Pick some wildflowers. Whatever. Just don't do something stupid like try to hunt down another tribute on your own."

"Fine," he grumbles.

They both walk back to camp. "I'm going to go set snares, see if I can get us some fresh meat. Any of you want to come?" Marvel announces when he gets there.

"Oh I would love to," Clove says from where she is resting with her head in Cato's lap. "But, I'm afraid Cato and I have other plans." She gives him an insincere smile.

"Why doesn't he speak for himself?" Marvel grits out, rising to her bait.

Cato's eyes narrow. "I'm staying here with Clove. I don't trust you, any of you," he adds looking at Glimmer, Axel and Marvel pointedly, "not to stick a knife in Clove the moment I leave camp."

For his part, Axel just shrugs. "I'm not really all that interested in hunting so I'll stay here. No offense Marvel, but I think you'd kill me just because you're getting antsy."

"None taken, because I would," Marvel replies with a sneer. "What about you?" he turns to Glimmer.

She looks torn. I can tell that she's itching for action but something is stopping her. Probably Marvel's attitude, she doesn't trust him either. "I think I'm going to stay here and work with Cato to try to get Clove back into fighting form."

"Suit yourself!" He grabs a net and a coil of rope and stomps off into the woods.

"You didn't have to stay, Glimmer," Clove says softly, the earlier sarcasm in her voice gone.

"I don't trust him either," Glimmer admits. "He's always been a loose cannon. Even in training all he wanted to do was fight, never wanted to learn defense only offense. And he doesn't have any patience."

"I noticed," Clove says drily. "And I thought Cato was bad."

"Hey!" he protests.

She reaches up and strokes one of his cheeks. "It's okay. I like that you're impatient most of the time."

He plants a kiss on her nose. "Thanks."

"Okay, enough mushiness," Glimmer says. "Time to work on standing up without puking."

Clove grimaces but nods.

The cameras cut to Peeta, Prim and Rue. They've set up a nice camp by the pond and have a good amount of supplies. I still haven't seen what all Peeta managed to get from the Cornucopia but he keeps it bundled up and on his back pretty much at all times. Only when he's sleeping, does he take it off and even then it's within arm's reach. It's another thing that he does that's smart. You don't want to lose your supplies if something or someone comes along that makes you need to run. The girls mimic him, even going so far as to sleep with their packs on. Peeta's pack is too big to do that with otherwise I think he'd do that too.

Peeta and Rue are both napping while Prim sets out a net to catch a fish or two. It's quiet. This fact goes unnoticed by her for a few crucial seconds. In the woods it should never be quiet. Only when there is danger does the wood still. She stands up and nudges Rue and Peeta with her foot.

The two come awake in time to see a herd of deer stampede by.

"What the?" Peeta asks, sitting up groggily.

"I don't know," Prim answers. "The forest went silent then the deer ran through."

Rue stands up and looks up toward the cliff. "And I think I know why." She points to where the dark spots in the cliff were the day before. These spots are now giant jets of flame.

"Crap!" Peeta swears, grabbing up a bedroll with one hand and stuffing it into his pack before slinging it over one shoulder. "Come on! We gotta move!"

Both Prim and Rue just stand there, transfixed on the spurts of flame coming down the mountain.

With a muffled oath, Peeta picks up first Prim then Rue and sets off running away from the fire. He runs awkwardly with the bag of supplies bouncing against his hip with a girl over each shoulder. He doesn't stop running though.

The flames are right on their trail. A falling tree barely misses them, crashing to the ground and throwing up sparks as it hits the ground. Peeta pushes himself harder for a little extra speed.

"Put me down, Peeta!" Rue shouts over the crackling of the fire. "I can run now."

"Same!" Prim shouts from his other shoulder.

Peeta stops and gently lowers them to the ground. With a cry of thanks, both girls start running. The blond boy straightens and a jet of fire comes up almost directly behind him, setting his jacket ablaze.

Peeta screams. I can only imagine the pain he is feeling at this moment. Fortunately, he doesn't lose his head but instead grits his teeth and drops to the forest floor, using the weight of his body against the ground to smother the flames. It has to be excruciating but it's the only way to stop the fire from spreading.

When he stands up, the camera zooms in on his back and I can see the blackened and blistered flesh along with the strips of fabric that have fused themselves to his skin. It looks beyond painful. Then Peeta does something that has my jaw dropping. He picks up the pack where he dropped it and slings it over his shoulders directly onto the burn.

With great effort, he starts running again. I can see from the expression on his face that the only thing keeping him going is sheer willpower. Rue and Prim are far ahead of him when a terrified stag bursting from the undergrowth forces them to veer to the left.

They follow the stag, guessing that the animal must know where safety is. After about ten minutes, they hit another clearing and beyond it is a large stream. The two girls stop to catch their breath and turn to see where the fire and Peeta are. Peeta is struggling manfully with the pack but I can see that the adrenaline that has been sustaining him is running out.

Rue and Prim run back to him. They each slip an arm around him prompting Peeta to scream in pain. Prim pulls back and sees the results of the burst blisters on the sleeve of her jacket.

"He's been badly burned," she cries to Rue. "We've got to get him to the stream!"

Rue nods and they support Peeta for the last hundred yards. The flames are still coming so Prim and Rue pull Peeta into the stream.

The water is cold and fast moving and I can see that both girls are struggling to keep their footing. I pray that the bottom doesn't give out. I know that Prim can swim a little but I have no idea about Rue or Peeta. It's touch and go as they cross to the other side but their luck holds, the water comes up to their necks but they don't lose the bottom entirely.

They pull Peeta up onto the bank and roll him onto his stomach. Prim carefully removes the large backpack from Peeta's back while Rue starts looking around for any kind of danger. The fire might have herded other tributes their way, it's a common Gamemaker tactic when action is slow. So far the coast is clear, but the question is for how long?

Once the pack is removed, Prim assesses the damage. I can tell it isn't good. The blisters I saw earlier have burst and have rubbed raw and red. There are rivulets of blood running down his back and into the waistband of his pants. About a third of his back, from the bottom of his shoulder blades to the small of his back, is burned.

Prim pulls out her knife and the commentators gasp that she's going to kill him because he's injured so badly that he can't protect her. I snort. These Capitol people don't know my sister at all. She's not going to kill Peeta, she's going to try to save him.

She starts to cut away the fabric around the edges of the burn. I can see she's trying very hard not to cut off all of his clothing, probably not because she would be embarrassed at seeing him half dressed like I would, but because burn victims are susceptible to changes in temperature. I remember that my sister has experience treating burns since she often helps my mother with the cases that are brought in. I remember one miner whose leg was so charred and burned from an explosion in the mines that I could see the bones in his leg. Prim helped with that case and even though the man later died, she learned a lot about severe burns at that time.

She finishes cutting away the fabric around the wound and starts to remove the burned in pieces and the few darkly charred patches of skin. Third degree burns won't heal. So the only way to get the patient to recover is to remove the dead skin. Peeta screams as the first patch of skin is removed then falls unconscious. It's better for him that way, I think sympathetically. Burns hurt worse than any other injury, I've been told. I don't really want to find out for myself firsthand.

While she's cutting, she calls to Rue, "Can you go through Peeta's pack and see if he picked up a first aid kit? I don't think mine's going to be enough."

That answers a question I'd had, apparently Peeta hasn't sorted through the supplies he got at the Cornucopia. Or if he did, he didn't do it where Prim and Rue could see. That could be a mistake.

The little girl from Eleven roots through the pack carefully, putting the supplies into piles based on what the items are. The bedroll Peeta grabbed is shoved under the unconscious boy's head to keep him from breathing in water or dirt.

Then there's a few water bottles of varying sizes, none larger than a half gallon. These she places next to Prim. My sister looks at her gratefully and I think I can guess why. This water, unlike that from the stream, is already purified so she shouldn't be risking infection by washing his wounds with it like she would from the unpurified water from the stream.

Rue starts pulling out food next. There's several packs of dried beef and fruit. A few packs of hard crackers. Three grain and nut bars. A bag of walnuts and a bag of almonds. Several thin protein bars. Two dried sausages. A hunk of cheese. Three cans of soup with pull tab lids. A box of tea. And a largish bag of rice. Both the rice and the tea have me shaking my head. Rice is about useless without water or something to cook it in. I suppose they can reuse the cans from the soup but that's not the best option. The tea, if it is just straight tea, has almost no nutritional value. Herbal tea is better but not by much.

After the food, Rue pulls out a blanket, some rope and a small cooking pot. At the very bottom of the pack is a small metal box and a small pouch. Inside the pouch is another sewing kit like Prim managed to find but with more thread.

The box though is the real gem. Rue opens it and it's another medical kit. But completer than the one Prim grabbed. It's got gauze, bandages, more packets of ointment, a bottle of sleep syrup, and best of all a little bottle of morphling with a syringe. Rue claps her hands in delight and shows Prim.

"Good. Tell me what the packets are for? I've got only one burn salve and it won't cover even a fraction of his injuries."

Rue flips through them. "They're all antibiotic cremes."

Prim wrinkles her nose. "I was afraid of that. He'll need that too, but burn creme is better. Get my pack and bring me the iodine too," Prim orders. She's clearly taking charge and Rue scrambles to follow her orders.

Prim washes Peeta's back with the purified water then carefully dries it with a cut off piece of blanket. The broken blisters are weeping clear fluid rather than blood, which is good, but Prim's frowning at them. "I'm worried about infection," she says.

"Is there anything you can do about it?" Rue asks.

"Other than use the ointment? Not really."

"Then do what you can and we'll go from there," Rue counsels pragmatically.

Prim makes a face. "I suppose."

Rue stands up and looks around. "You need me?"

"This making you queasy?" Prim asks. "Katniss can't stand the sight of human blood. She's so strong when it comes to everything else, but when someone's hurt she can't handle it. She always goes someplace else when my mom has a really injured patient."

Shaking her head, Rue says. "Nah, I've seen worse when the Peacekeepers whip someone for snitching food. I was just thinking about taking a look around. See if I can find any shelter. We're real exposed out here."

Prim looks around and nods. "Yeah, we are. I don't know when he'll wake up, though."

Ever the pragmatist, Rue tells my sister, "We'll deal with that when we come to it. You work on healing him and I'll see if I can find us a place to hide."

Prim nods and goes back to her work. She judiciously dabs what little burn creme she has on the worst of Peeta's wounds. It doesn't go far. Then, she carefully smears the antibacterial cremes on the rest of his wounds and then lightly covers it with some gauze. When she's done she takes stock of what medical supplies she has left and sighs.

"There's not even enough for another coat," she says sadly. She picks up her trash and puts it back in the box. Possibly to try to salvage more from it later or to just keep people from finding her. Either way, it is smart.

Rue returns a little while later. "I found a cave," she says. "It's small, but it's close."

Prim perks up. "Really? That's great news. Do you think we can get Peeta there?"

"I don't know," Rue says with a frown. "He's pretty heavy."

"We gotta try," Prim insists. "How far away is it?"

"About a thousand feet that way," she points to a small hump of rocks and fallen trees. "It's pretty rough going."

Prim looks around, a thoughtful expression on her face. She walks around the area that Rue piled Peeta's supplies, stopping every so often at the piles to rifle through it. "Rue?"

"Yeah?"

"You think you can carry all of the supplies over to the cave and then bring back the packs?"

The dark skinned girl considers it. "I think so. It'll take me a few trips. I'm not as strong as Peeta."

"I don't think anyone's as strong as Peeta," Prim says with a little laugh.

"Thresh is."

"True," she concedes. "Leave my bedroll here along with the rope. I'm going to try to rig something up."

Rue starts hauling the supplies over to the cave while Prim lays out her bedroll and unzips it. She then pulls out a knife and makes several thin cuts along one side about four inches down from the top. She threads the rope through the holes with the dangling ends on the far side. She gets the second coil of rope and carefully loops it through the holes so that the fabric will be less likely to tear. Then she takes the two dangling ends which are nearer to the center of the bedroll and lays them out parallel to the first. By the time she's done, Rue is back with the two smaller backpacks. She ties the rope to the straps of the backpack and pulls it on backwards with the pouch on her front instead of her back.

"It's like a harness," Prim explains. "We put Peeta on the bed roll and cushion his head and then the two of us pull him to the cave. This way we can see where we're going and we don't have to roll him onto his back."

"How are we getting him onto the roll?" Rue asks.

"Carefully."

The two girls struggle to move Peeta's unconscious body. At one point, they have to strip off his ruined jacket and the packet of Clove's throwing knives falls out.

"Probably good we found these now," Prim says. "I don't want all of my hard work to go to waste."

Rue nods in agreement.

They manage to get Peeta onto the roll then start pulling him inch by inch toward the cave. It's slow going, Peeta weighs almost as much as the two of them put together and neither of them is used to carrying a lot of weight. But they manage. Every few feet or so, Prim stops them and checks to make sure that Peeta is okay.

The announcers cut in that there's more action elsewhere in the Arena and I want to scream. I understand that now that Peeta, Prim and Rue are out of immediate danger they aren't as interesting but it's still frustrating.

The terrain changes and it takes me a moment to recognize that it's near the area where Prim, Peeta and Rue's camp was. Marvel wanders onto the screen, I can tell he's slightly out of breath from running. He must have taken off in this direction as soon as he saw the smoke.

He must know, just like I do, that the sheer amount of flame can only mean one thing. The Gamemakers are trying to make the Games more interesting by harassing the tributes. He listens carefully and then smiles. He hears something. He deliberately turns around and walks in the opposite direction from where Prim, Peeta and Rue ran to.

I frown. What could he have heard?

I have my answer soon enough as the camera cuts to the trio's old camp. The camp itself is unscathed although there are still burning trees on the outskirts. The foxfaced girl from Five, Uranium, is there and gathering up the items that my group had to leave behind. She's got the bedroll Rue was sleeping in and the pile of cattail, water lily, and katniss roots that Prim had gathered. She's got a smug little smile on her face as she pilfers what my sister and her friends spent a long time working to get.

She sees the net that Prim'd placed that morning in the water and her smile grows wider. She goes up and starts to pull it in. She slips on the slick grass by the edge of the pool and falls on her bottom.

Right as a spear flies over her shoulder and impales itself in the ground behind her.

She starts and her eyes fly in the direction where the spear came from. Marvel's there and he's angry that he missed.

Uranium stands up and carefully backs up to the spear and pulls it out of the ground, holding it in front of her. "You lost this," she says quietly.

"Why don't you be nice and give it back to me and I'll give you a treat," Marvel replies with a sneer.

Tilting her head to one side, she asks, "And what will that be?"

The boy from One pulls out a hunting knife and holds it low in front of him. "A nice painless death."

"Tempting," Uranium answers, her tone mocking. "But I think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself. Now I get to play with you."

Uranium turns and runs and I can hear the words she shouts float back to Marvel. "You've got to catch me first!"

Marvel curses loudly and takes off after her. The girl from Five is fast, darting in and out of the still smoldering and burning shrubs and trees with ease. Marvel isn't as graceful. He brushes up against some of the flora and has to spend precious time putting himself out. Still, he doesn't give up.

I'm a little confused when I see Uranium stop and double back a few yards. She likely saw something up ahead that she didn't like. She skirts the area in front of her then stops and turns around.

"Tired of the cat and mouse game, mouse?" Marvel asks when he catches up to her.

"Something like that," she replies.

He smiles. It isn't a friendly smile. "Good, I was getting tired of chasing you. I'd much rather be doing something else to you."

"I don't think you could get it up. Your weapon looks a little wimpy." I can tell from her tone that she isn't talking about Marvel's knife.

Marvel takes it about as well as I would expect, which is to say badly. "I'll show you wimpy!"

"Well, why don't you stop talking and do something? Or are you all talk?" Uranium taunts.

Marvel charges.

Uranium just stands there, a little smile on her face. A smile that widens into a full on grin when Marvel crashes face first into a pool of quicksand.

The boy from One comes up spluttering. "What the?"

"You Careers," Uranium scoffs. "You never pay attention to your surroundings. Always so focused on your prey. Well, now this prey is going to have the last laugh." She pulls back her arm and hurls the spear. Not at Marvel, like I thought. But at the burning canopy of branches above Marvel's head.

Fire rains down on the mired boy. He cries out in pain as fiery branches scorch his face. He tries to protect his head from the debris but is only partially successful. His hair singes and burns and he thrashes about in the quicksand to try to free himself.

Uranium smirks at his pain then runs back to Prim's abandoned camp. I have to give the girl her due, it was an interesting tactic. But not necessarily a deadly one. She could have speared Marvel, but the more I think about it that is what he was expecting her to do. He could have caught the weapon and pulled her into the quicksand with him and she'd have lost her advantage and likely her life. This way, while less certain, allowed her to get away relatively unscathed and reclaim the supplies she had scavenged.

A cannon goes off and her smile widens, assuming it is for Marvel.

She's wrong. Marvel is hurt but still very much alive.

He manages to get his hair put out by slathering it with the wet muck. He gingerly gets out of the quicksand and I can see that he's pretty hurt. One eye is swollen shut and his whole left side is dotted with burns. I can see his anger coming through the pain. He wants to go after Uranium but he doesn't know where she went or if he could fight her in his condition. So slowly, painfully, he sets back toward the clearing and the Career camp.

The announcers interrupt to say that they're going to show a recap of something else that was going on at the same time as Uranium and Marvel's confrontation. In another part of the forest, Jace, the boy from Nine walks around. I can see he's nearing desperate. He's clearly dehydrated and I can see tear tracks on his cheeks. He's walking aimlessly, ignoring clearly edible plants and berries.

My heart goes out to him.

He reaches the edge of the stream and lets out a glad cry. He runs toward it gleefully. When he reaches the edge, he drops to his knees and slurps up several mouthfuls. His immediate thirst slaked, he sits up and surveys his surroundings as if he's now finally aware of them. He spots the flash of a trout in the stream and he gets to his feet. Carefully he wades out into the water, one hand dangling in the stream.

Jace is almost at the fish when he places his foot wrong. He slips, losing his balance, the fish and his life. He tumbles into the stream and strikes his head against a partially submerged rock. He then rolls face first into the stream and the current carries him away.

A few moments later a cannon sounds. The same cannon Uranium mistook for Marvel's death knell.

Jace is dead.

Not by the hands of any tribute but by the brutality of the Games themselves. It strikes me as ironic that with all of the fire set off by the Gamekeepers, so far the only death today is an accidental drowning.

I glance over at the clock. It's not even noon. If this is how the morning is going to be, I'm worried about how the rest of the day is going to go. I'm worried if my sister is going to make it through the rest of the day, let alone the rest of the Games.

* * *

**AN:**

Written as part of NaNoWriMo in November of 2012.

Revised 7/25/13

Beta Read by RoseFyre.

Welcome back to the action. Like the Capitol audience, I figure that my readers can only take so many transitional chapters before they get bored and move on. Besides, I do want to finish this eventually.

Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
11. Jace. District Nine. Killed by the Games. Drowned while trying to catch a fish.

Up Next: The alliance grows and another tribute falls.


	15. Chapter Fifteen - Revised

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Spectator**

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

I shouldn't have worried. The rest of the day goes by fairly uneventfully.

Prim and Rue manage to get Peeta to the cave and spend the rest of the daylight hours gathering what edible plants they can find.

The most interesting thing that happens is when Marvel gets back to the Career camp.

Glimmer, who is the lookout, spots him first. She notes his careful stride and burned and bedraggled appearance. "What happened?"

"That bint from Five," he growls.

Clove walks up unaided with Cato following her. "So a piece of meat got the drop on you? Did she sneak up on you while you were taking a piss?"

"Back off," Marvel snarls. "I've about had it with mouthy women."

"I'm so scared," she says sarcastically.

He moves to attack the smaller girl and Glimmer quickly restrains him, accidentally squeezing one of his burns. His growl of anger turns into a cry of pain.

Glimmer releases him. "What happened?" she repeats.

Marvel takes several deep breaths before answering. "Gamemakers set off a fire trap. I went to investigate and found the female from Five at a camp. She managed to trap me in some quicksand then used my own spear to rain fire down on me."

"And that cannon?" Cato asks.

"Damned if I know. It could have been her. It could have been one of the other pieces of meat. All I know is that it wasn't me."

Cato nods.

Clove narrows her eyes. "Let me get this straight. You went off, alone, which we told you not to do, to investigate a Gamemaker fire. Then, when you got there you got taken down by a weakling tribute from Five and barely escaped with your life. Is that right? Or am I missing something?"

Marvel glares at her with his good eye.

"Pathetic," she sneers, crossing her arms over her chest. "At least I was taken down by someone with the same score as me. You were almost killed by a piece of meat."

"Clove," Glimmer cautions. "You aren't helping."

"He's not either!" She gestures at Marvel angrily. "He's running off half-cocked without back up into who knows what. What would have happened if you'd run into Eleven or Twelve? Or even that girl from Seven? You'd be dead and we'd be down a man."

"At least I would have gone down fighting!" he shoots back.

"But you'd still be dead and a loser," the girl from two counters.

"I look forward to when I can kill you," he spits out.

Clove smirks. "Not if I don't kill you first. Now go take care of your boo boos. Tomorrow we're going hunting."

Glimmer leads Marvel to a crate to use as a chair and then threads her way over to the scavenged pile of supplies. She pulls out a first aid kit and orders Marvel to strip.

When the Career is down to nothing but his underwear, she tosses his clothes to Axel and tells him to go wash them out in the lake. Axel makes a face of distaste but complies. As he turns away from the group, I can see the hatred in his eyes and I wonder why he's still with them. It's obvious that this year's Career pack is much more dysfunctional than previous years' packs, but I'm guessing he has a plan and that plan requires him to work with the Careers no matter how messed up they are.

Glimmer assesses Marvel's injuries. The flesh around his left eye has swollen so much that the eyeball isn't visible. She pulls out a chemical cold pack and shakes it up to activate it and has Marvel hold it to his face to try to get the swelling down. Most of the rest of the burns aren't too serious, the worst are on his shoulders, left arm, and head. Unlike Prim, who cleaned the wounds before putting creme on them, Glimmer doesn't bother with that procedure. She just slathers creme indiscriminately on the various burns. I don't see any third degree burns on him, but the second degree ones are going to be painful and crippling.

When she gets to his face, she's a little more careful. He pulls the cold pack away from his face and Glimmer flinches. The eye is ruined. Gone. All that is left is a gaping dark hole.

"Oh, Marvel..." she breathes softly.

He gives her a sharp look, taking in her stricken features with his good eye. "How bad is it?"

"Bad," she says. "Real bad."

"Can you fix it?" It's clear that he's holding on to some kind of hope.

She shakes her head. "I don't think the Capitol can fix this."

His features crumple. He knows that this early in the Games to have this bad of an injury is a death sentence. "Just fix me up the best you can," he says after several moments. He's trying to be strong, to not cry, but I can tell he's close.

Glimmer seems to as well, because she gives him a quick hug. "I'll win for you," she promises.

He nods. It's the best he's going to get now.

When I go to bed at the end of day three of the Games, my dreams are filled with fire consuming everything it touches. I wake up in the middle of the night and resist the urge to turn on the television. I need sleep, not more nightmares. Instead, I make myself some chamomile tea and sit in the dark with my thoughts.

I'm worried about Prim and it bothers me that there is nothing I can do but sit here in Twelve and watch her. I'm glad she has Peeta and Rue to help her but I wonder how long that's going to last once more tributes die. All alliances tear themselves apart in the end. Then there's the part I've been avoiding, what am I going to do after the Games are over? This baby, which is due in less than five months, is going to keep me from doing my normal hunting and gathering that I do most years. That means that for the first time since my father died, my family is going to be facing starvation. I know Gale will help, but he's going to be starting work in the mines as soon as the Games are over. Plus any help he gives will feel like an obligation. And thinking about obligations brings be back to Peeta. I owe him. I owe him a lot and I don't like being in anyone's debt. But I have no idea how I'd go about repaying it.

I sip my tea and worry. I just want these Games to be over.

oOo

There's a knock at the door the next morning that wakes me up. I get out of bed and pad to the door in my nightgown, wishing that I had a robe to put on. I open the door to find Madge and Gale both standing there.

"What are you two doing here?" I ask bluntly.

Madge clucks her tongue at me. "Tsk. So rude! Aren't you even going to say hello?"

"Fine. Hello. Now what are you two doing here?"

Gale speaks up. "Madge thought it'd be a good idea for you to get out of the house."

I shoot a glare at the Mayor's daughter and she sticks her tongue out at me. "Oh she did, huh? So why are you here?" I know it's rude, but I'm not feeling all that polite.

"Madge talked to me yesterday. Tried to make me see your point of view."

"And?"

"I don't agree with it. But I guess, you're right. You shouldn't feel pressured into doing something that is going to affect the rest of your life."

I nod. "So no more insisting we get married?"

"I still think it's the best solution. But I'll stop pushing."

"And the whole being jealous and overprotective?" I ask.

Gale makes a face. "I can't promise anything. You're my family, Catnip, even before I got you pregnant. I tend to be protective of those people I consider mine."

I nod, accepting his compromise. It's not everything I wanted and things are definitely still going to be awkward between us, but it's a start. "So what did you have planned for today?" I ask.

Madge walks into the house and as she passes me she hands me a sandwich of some kind of nut spread and strawberry jam. "Well, after you eat, I thought we'd go out into the woods and go berry picking."

"Um, okay."

"I didn't think you'd be up for full on hunting, not with me in any case," Madge adds. "I've never been under the fence before. It's kind of an adventure."

I raise an eyebrow at my friend. It's not so much an adventure as dangerous and a necessary evil in order to survive. I can grow some food in our small garden and Lady gives us milk. But without the meat and other foods I get from the other side of the fence, we'd starve.

I glance up at Gale and he shrugs. "It's her idea. I'm just coming along to be the pack mule."

He didn't give me what I know to be the real reason, he wants to protect me, but I let him keep that fiction. He's trying.

"You're a meddler, you know," I tell Madge.

"Only with things I can change."

I eat my breakfast and get dressed as best I can. I don't want to wear Madge's mother's clothes outside of the fence, I'd just ruin them, and my own clothing is no longer fitting the way it used to, but I make do.

"Another tribute died," Gale tells me as we walk though the Meadow.

"Who?" I ask, my heart sinking.

"The girl from Eight. Taylor," Madge answers.

I don't really remember her but I feel compelled to ask, "How?"

Gale is the one who gives me the explanation. "The Career pack found her campsite and killed her. She didn't bank her fire and the glow from the embers led them to her."

"Which one did it? Marvel? Cato?"

"Marvel got forced to stay at the camp because of his injury. The rest of them went out and hunted her down. Glimmer wounded her with her arrows but Clove actually got the kill," he answers.

I sigh. What can I say? One less tribute between Prim and the end, still she was a scared kid in the Arena who died because of something that happened long before she was born.

We get to the fence and we show Madge how to listen for the electric current that runs through it. The buzzing isn't there so we clamber under and head out into the woods. Madge is not used to walking silently so it sounds like we are crashing through the undergrowth. Gale tries to show her how to watch where she places her feet so she doesn't snap twigs but it doesn't make a whole lot of difference. She doesn't have the years of experience that he and I do.

After escorting us to the clearing where the main strawberry patch is Gale slips off to set a few snares. We should be fine on our own. I've got my bow and despite my expanding waistline, I am still a crack shot. I show Madge how to pick the berries and what other plants are edible that she should gather as she goes.

She asks a lot of questions and I'm reminded of Prim when she was younger and wanted to know everything about all of the plants. I only wanted to know what was edible. Prim wanted to know them all.

By the time Gale gets back, we have a good pile of strawberries. It's getting on enough in the season that the mulberries are becoming ripe so Gale and I head down to where the trees grow. You can always tell when the mulberries are in season because the area is filled with the calls of birds. Gale slows us down and ventures out ahead. He knows, like I do, that where there are that many birds present that there are likely to be predators.

I hear the familiar twang of a bowstring and a high pitched gobble. Then Gale calls out, "It's clear."

Madge and I make our way through the brush and meet up with Gale. "Any predators?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Nope, but I got a good sized turkey who was eating the fallen fruit."

Nodding, I walk over to the mulberry trees and show Madge how to tell a ripe berry from an unripe one. The ripe berries are good to eat but if they are unripe they can cause hallucinations and stomach cramps. Gale helps us gather them and we have a large haul of them. About an hour later, I complain that I'm starting to get hungry and we decide to head back to the village.

"That was fun!" Madge says snitching a strawberry from her pack. "I want to do that again!"

"Yeah, it was, but you've got to promise not to go out on your own," I tell her in a firm voice. "It's dangerous."

She frowns at me. "I didn't see anything dangerous."

"That's because you don't know what to look for," Gale interjects. "There's wild dogs, wolves, mutts, tracker jackers, and snakes. And that's just a few of the things you might run into out there. Wild pigs are just as deadly and they startle easy, even deer can kill."

Madge blanches. "I'll remember that."

"Look, it's because you're new," Gale says trying to soothe her. "Catnip and I had our dads to show us the ropes. It takes time to learn the forest. And even Katniss and I don't go alone if we can avoid it. It's safer that way."

It's true, hunting as a team is safer. It's part of the reason why I didn't like losing Gale as a friend. Boyfriends are easy to get, good hunting partners are harder to find.

We get to my house and Gale offers to give me the turkey, I initially refuse but he reminds me that he still has his snares out there and I haven't been hunting in four days. I accept reluctantly and I sit down to pluck the bird.

Madge pales as I'm cleaning it and offers to run into town to pick up some apples and bread. I agree, knowing that telling her that I don't need the charity is going to fall on deaf ears. Since I am pretty sure Madge is going to be joining me for lunch, I might as well let her contribute to the meal. Gale offers to finish cleaning the bird while I go milk Lady and get water going to start making jam from the berries we gathered. I note that I'm going to need more sugar and salt soon if I'm going to keep preserving like I need to.

While I am getting lunch ready, I turn on the Games. It was nice to do something else, but now that I'm home I feel I should be watching and urging Prim on.

The screen resolves itself on the Career camp. No surprise there. They aren't doing much. They are clearly segregated into three groups: Marvel and Glimmer, Cato and Clove, and Axel by himself. In past years, the Career pack has been really close, joking and playing with each other. But this year, it's really strained.

Clove gets up and suggests that they go hunting for more tributes and the rest agree with her. Marvel says he's going to go with them and I can see that Clove wants to argue with him but decides against it. He's wearing a bandage over his ruined eye and what burns aren't covered look red and angry. Looking at them, I wonder how Peeta is doing.

The five gather up their weapons and set off. However, as they leave the clearing, I see the boy from Three fiddle with a bunch of wires. Probably arming the mines or something. The cameras follow them for a little while then cut back to the clearing.

Uranium darts out from the underbrush near the lake and does a weird hopping dance up to the supply pile. There she grabs a little food, a knife, and some burn creme. Not so much that it'd be missed. She secures her prizes and then skips back through the minefield and into the trees. I shake my head at her cleverness, she's dangerous in a way that isn't overtly obvious.

The action changes to the streamside cave and Prim and Rue. I can see that Peeta is laying on his stomach, asleep. Prim is kneeling next to him checking on his wounds. Rue is at the entrance of the cave looking out through a latticework of branches.

"He's been out a while," Rue comments.

Prim nods. "I've been keeping him under as much as I can. The burn creme I had helped a lot, but there wasn't enough of it."

"So ask for more of it. You and Peeta have to have sponsors, right?"

Prim looks thoughtful. "I don't know. I hope so. But I'm sure medicine like that is really expensive. Haymitch and Effie might not have enough."

Rue sighs and looks outside again. She seems to be rehearsing some kind of speech and my heart sinks. Now that Peeta's down, a lot of the reason for the alliance to stick together is moot. Rue must want to get away from the sitting duck that Peeta is right now. She's also got to know that Prim won't leave the injured boy. My stomach churns and it's more than just hunger pangs, it's real worry.

"Prim?"

"Yeah?"

Here it comes. "I think I need to go look for Thresh."

"What?" Prim asks, echoing my own confusion and I'm sure pretty much everyone else's as well.

Rue looks over at Prim seriously. "I'm not saying that we need help."

"But we need help," Prim finishes.

"Yeah. Thresh is the best I can think of now that Peeta's down. He was nice to me on the train ride here and in the chariot and after training he would sit and talk with me about his life in Eleven and his little sister and grandmother."

"So why didn't you hang out during training?" Prim wants to know.

Rue looks away with a sad expression on her face. "It was our mentors' idea. I think they didn't want to weigh his chances down with a long shot like me."

Prim nods. "I understand, Haymitch doesn't like me very much either."

"Yeah, well, what any of our mentors like is beyond the point. They aren't here, we are. What's the worse they could do? Withhold gifts, it ain't like we're getting much anyway."

"Just because Thresh was nice to you in the Training Center doesn't mean he won't kill you now," Prim points out.

"I know. But, I got to try. The Careers outnumber us and neither of us is good at fighting."

Prim stands up and walks over to the opening of the cave where Rue's standing. "Do you even know where to start looking? There's Careers out there, not to mention the other tributes."

"I think I saw him go over the cliff by the Cornucopia. I'll start there."

Prim frowns, she knows, like I do, that most of the time the Careers set up camp near the Cornucopia so Rue is essentially proposing to walk into their camp to start her search.

Gale walks in with the plucked turkey. He sees that the television is on and it's showcasing Prim and closes his mouth around anything he was going to say. He sets the bird on the counter and sits down at the table with me to watch.

Rue continues talking through Gale's entrance. "I'll take the night vision glasses, stick to the trees as much as I can, and travel light. I'll be okay. They'll have to catch me in order to kill me."

"You don't have to go," Prim insists. "We can make it on our own."

"We might," Rue agrees. "But will Peeta?"

Prim glances at the sleeping boy then back to Rue. "When will you go?" she asks, her voice sounding near tears.

"As soon as I can," Rue answers.

Prim bites her lip and nods.

The dark skinned girl gets her gear together. It isn't much, a water bottle with some purified water in it, a pack of dried beef, a pack of dried fruit, the glasses, and her slingshot. She puts it all in a small pouch and slings it across her body. "I'm ready."

My sister gives her a hug and doesn't appear to want to let go. Rue clings to Prim just as tightly. The affection and friendship between them is palpable. Eventually Prim pulls away, there are tears glittering in her eyes but I can tell she's struggling to keep them contained. "You take care out there, okay?"

"I will. But if I don't come back..."

"You will!"

"If I don't," the girl from Eleven repeats. "You do me a favor. Win this thing for me. Show them that they can't count us twelves out!"

"I'll do my best."

"You'll win. Cross your heart!"

Prim makes an x over the left side of her chest. "I promise."

"See you soon," Rue says instead of goodbye and clambers out from under the camouflaged opening.

The cameras follow her as she slips across the stream and into the woods on the other side. She finds a likely tree and scales it. When she reaches a good height, she starts hopping from tree to tree like a squirrel. There's something fascinating about how she uses the trees as a pathway. However as fascinated as I am by the feat, I'm sure the Capitol isn't as interested.

I'm right, because a few minutes later the Capitol starts replaying Taylor's death from early this morning. I turn down the volume, I don't want to watch the girl's death. I stand up and head over to the counter to cook, leaving Gale at the table.

"Where is she going?" Gale asks. "Is the alliance over?"

I shake my head. "No, she's going after Thresh. She's going to try to convince him to join their alliance."

"She's going to get herself killed."

"She thinks it's the only choice. Prim agrees with you, if you want to know."

Gale barks out a laugh. "Is that so? About the only thing we've agreed on in a while."

Since I got pregnant, I think but I don't say. Instead, I continue butchering the turkey into smaller parts. I could roast it, but that'd take too long. Not to mention, you can make it stretch further if you make it into stews or casseroles. Thinking of a casserole, I pull down yesterday's tesserae loaf and slice it up into cubes to dry. One of my favorites is turkey and bread casserole with onions and herbs. I'll make that for tonight. Lunch is going to be a skillet of turkey, greens, and a few mulberries.

Madge returns with the apples and bread. Gale fills her in on what's happened while I cut up the apples to put in with the mulberries so I can turn them into jam.

"You know, it's going to take a while for Rue to find Thresh," Madge points out.

"I know," I say. "But Prim's got enough in the way supplies she shouldn't need to venture out."

"I wasn't thinking about her," Madge says softly. "Peeta looks like he's in bad shape."

I nod my head. "Prim's taking care of him. At least his wounds aren't infected, the price of one of those antibiotic shots could buy all of Twelve," I say, remembering the price from when I was looking through the catalog. "Burn creme is a lot less expensive."

"So it's only the cost of half of Twelve?" Gale chimes in.

"Exactly," I say with a smile.

Lunch is just as light hearted as the gathering expedition this morning. With Madge there to act as a buffer, Gale and I are getting along. I think part of it is that neither of us like airing our problems where outsiders can hear and part of it is that Madge keeps distracting us with questions of what it is like to forage in the woods. She's like a child when it comes to them, she only sees the excitement and not the danger. Gale and I have to constantly point out that there is a reason for the fence and it isn't just to keep us in, but to keep other things out.

They're still playing highlights when Mandatory Viewing comes on. I guess not much happened after Rue left to find Thresh. The tribute recaps show most of the remaining non-Career tributes hunkered down, trying to outlast the others.

Only Uranium and Rue are on the move. Rue to Thresh. Uranium to who knows where. She seems to be looking for someone though. I'm worried what will happen when she finds them. She knows now that she didn't kill Marvel and that if he's not dead he's going to go out of his way to see her dead.

I go to bed that night worried less about the Careers finding Prim than the foxfaced girl from Five finding her.

When I wake up the next morning, I find that not much has happened. A fact that the morning commentators are lamenting on. They're currently following Uranium, interjecting that the Careers are sleeping off an unsuccessful nighttime hunt. I suppose I should be grateful, if the Careers weren't sleeping then the cameras would be focusing on them. Uranium, at least, is unpredictable and sneaky.

She's on the edge of the same stream that Jace drowned in. She sees his footprints and sees that they lead into the water. She frowns and backtracks along the bank upstream. She must be trying to avoid all of the other tributes, I think.

Uranium slows down when the bank changes from mud to rock. My eyes narrow, the location looks familiar. Then it hits me, it's where Prim and Rue pulled Peeta ashore. My breath catches. Not more than a few hundred yards away from that spot is the cave that's sheltering my sister. Uranium crouches down and examines the ground.

The commentators are excitedly jabbering on how Uranium must be a good tracker and that it's very exciting knowing that she's so close to Prim and Peeta. Exciting is not the word I'd use. Terrifying comes closer. And Uranium wouldn't need to be a good tracker to know that something's up. I can see the drag marks clearly on my small television. I imagine that they are even more pronounced in person. The girl from Five traces the outline of a small footprint and smiles.

She stands up, brushing her hands off on her pants. Then she purses her lips and lets out a very familiar four note theme.

I about fall out of my chair. How did she learn that tune and from where? Did she follow Prim and hear her whistling that before she found Rue and Peeta? Is it a trap? Is she planning on killing my sister?

Prim's head pops out of the entrance of the cave a few seconds later. I see her scanning the area and her eyes alight on the red-haired girl.

"Rani!" she cries, scrambling out of the cave. "You found us!"

Uranium, or Rani as I guess she's known, smiles at my sister. "I told you I'd try to hook up with you."

"I wasn't sure if you weren't just humoring me."

"I was. I was also telling the truth," she says. "Who else would I team up with? You're the best at identifying edible plants and making snares."

"You're not bad yourself," Prim says modestly.

Rani snorts. "I kept messing up with the berries. They don't have plants like this in Five." She looks at Prim closely. "Where's everyone else?"

My sister's face falls. "Rue left to go look for Thresh."

Narrowing her eyes, Rani asks, "Why would she do that? Where's big brother?"

"Peeta's hurt really bad. He got burned in that Gamemakers' fire a couple of days ago."

"How bad?" Rani asks intently.

"Really, really bad. I'm having to keep him asleep so that he doesn't start screaming from the pain."

The red-headed girl frowns. "I was hoping I was wrong," she mutters under her breath.

"Wrong about what?" Prim asks, obviously having heard her.

"I found your old camp by the pool. Speaking of..." she says and pulls out Prim's fishing net and tosses it to her. "I found this. I hope you don't mind, but I ate the fish."

"I don't mind. You were saying?"

"I saw the fire and went to check it out. Almost got caught by a Career who got nosy. But it worked out, I got away in better shape than he did. Considering the stuff you left behind, I figured things were pretty bad."

"Peeta saved us," Prim supplies. "Rue and I froze. Peeta carried the two of us until we could run on our own. The fire got him when he was putting us down."

"Stupid, honorable boy. I hope your sister appreciates him, otherwise I'm going to steal him from her," Rani's eyes are bright and her tone is a little too forced.

Prim laughs. I don't. I can see that Rani was telling the truth even though she was making it sound like a joke.

Rani smiles tightly. "Why don't you show me where you guys are camped out?"

"Okay!" Prim says brightly, leading the older girl to the cave. She moves aside the branches camouflaging the opening and climbs in. Rani follows her and she gasps involuntarily when she sees Peeta's back.

The bandages have been removed and the burns are open to the air. The skin is red and still very blistered. There are a few patches of clean skin where Prim was able to apply what burn creme she had, but they're small islands of pale white in a sea of fire.

"You weren't joking when you said it was bad, were you?" the girl from Five murmurs, her voice full of emotion. She looks upset at seeing Peeta brought down like this.

"No, I wasn't," Prim answers with a shake of her head.

"Then I suppose it was a good thing I got these," Rani says, reaching into a pocket on her jacket and pulling out six packets of burn creme.

Prim accepts them with an awed expression on her face. "Where did you get these?"

"Career camp. One of their own is in a pretty bad way," she says with a smirk. "They aren't going to miss something that he's gone through like crazy. They're just going to think that he used it on some of his milder burns rather than think that anyone would be audacious enough to sneak into their camp. I figured one of you was hurt and you could use these when I found you."

"Thank you, Rani! These will really help a lot!"

Prim gets down on her knees and opens one packet of creme. She carefully dabs the white stuff on the worst of Peeta's burns. She's very frugal with the salve and sets the packet to one side. She repeats the process until most of Peeta's back is covered with a thin layer of the ointment. Then she takes the packets and splits them open with a knife. She scrapes the knife along the packaging, getting every smidge of medicine. Then she wets down the little bit of creme with some warm water thinning it out. She spreads what's left of the creme on the less injured part of Peeta's back.

"Why'd you do that?" Rani wants to know.

"They not as bad of a burn, but they still hurt," my sister replies. "This way I don't have anything going to waste."

The older girl nods. "Now what do we do?" she asks.

"We wait for Rue," Prim says firmly.

"If that's the case, I'm getting something to eat."

* * *

**AN:**

Written as part of NaNoWriMo in November 2012

Revised 7/25/13

Beta Read by RoseFyre.

Ahh, the fun times of an unreliable narrator. Yep Foxface joined the alliance and it'd been planned by Rue, Peeta, and Prim. So yes, the recognition call she knew honestly. I'd also had planned the nickname, of Rani for a while but until Prim or one of the alliance ran into her Katniss and thus the readers wouldn't know what it is. I'm pronouncing it "Rainy" since it is short for Uranium.

Also on Peeta's burns. I'd considered having Haymitch send them burn salve like in the books but the more I thought about it the more I disliked it as too similar too much of an easy way out. Having Foxface steal help from the Careers worked and did something to establish her character more.

Speaking of the Careers, Marvel is blinded in one eye. Falling burning debris can do that. He's also pretty badly burned or was until Glimmer slathered him with stuff. Clove is fine and has racked up another kill. But one we didn't need to see.

As for Gale, I have opinions on him. However, I don't hate the character, he's just done some things he shouldn't and made some bad decisions. He's just pretty single-minded and again we're looking at this through Katniss' eyes. Madge is important because for all that she's Katniss friend, she's not involved in the drama.

Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
12. Taylor (Female Tribute). District Eight. Killed by Clove. Knife to the head.

Up Next: The Rue finds Thresh, another tribute falls, and the Capitol unleashes a surprise.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Spectator**

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

I go to bed worried about Prim. I don't know what it is, but there is something about Rani that seems calculated. Sly. Like a fox. It isn't just her face that gives me that impression. It's something else and I can't quite put my finger on it. The fact that Prim and I guess Rue and Peeta trust her enough to form an alliance with her should mean something, but it doesn't. She's the kind of person who would say one thing to your face and stab you in the back the next moment.

My dreams are filled with red haired girls stabbing my sister and it is about as restful as the previous few nights. If this keeps up much longer, I'm likely to have my mother dosing my tea with sleep syrup or something else to make me sleep. I don't want it to come to that.

To try to distract myself from Prim, I force myself to think of Madge and her enthusiasm for the wilderness beyond the fence. I understand how that small rebellion can be so very freeing. I feel it every time I slip under the wires and escape the coal dust coated desperation of the Seam for a few hours. The woods are my haven. My refuge. They aren't the means to my survival but to my sanity as well. Showing Madge how to gather food from them would be a good distraction for me. Not to mention I can always use an extra pair of hands getting food for the winter. After the death of my father, I never want to know that level of desperate hunger of those few months before Peeta helped me ever again.

Eventually, I manage to get a few hours of sleep. It's still not very much because when I wake up it's still dark but I just can't sleep anymore. I get up and turn the television on, making sure the volume is turned down so I don't wake my mother.

The cameras are focused on the edge of the career camp. Through some kind of night vision camera that gives everything a greenish gray tinge. I think I can see a tribute hiding on the edge of the clearing but things aren't clear enough for me to make out.

I pull out some leftovers to reheat in the oven and make some tea. When it's ready I let myself immerse myself in the Games while I eat.

One of the cameras moves and I am finally able to make out the tribute hiding at the edge of the Cornucopia clearing. It's Rue. She's wearing those night vision goggles that she took and is watching the place where the Careers are staked out closely. Most of them are sleeping but I can see one of them up on guard duty. From the height and figure I can tell it's Glimmer.

She's not really paying that much attention to her surroundings but I can see why Rue is waiting for her to move. It's clear that the girl from Eleven has to run across the clearing to get to the cliff that leads off into the wheat field. The commentators explain that the cliff is too high from the woods side to get down without risking serious mechanical injury so the clearing is Rue's only option. However, the way that Glimmer is standing means that if Rue tries to sneak across the open space she would likely get seen.

The standoff continues for another twenty minutes while I finish my breakfast. Finally, Glimmer moves to go wake up whoever is next on watch and Rue makes her move.

Slipping out from the underbrush, Rue runs as fast as she can hugging the edge of the forest to try to obscure her figure. She reaches the edge of the cliff and glances down. Too high. She heads toward the edge nearer to the lake, glancing all the while at the flickering light that is the Career camp. Luck is on her side because Glimmer and Marvel have a small conversation in low tones that not even the microphones can pick up. I'm guessing that the two from One are debating when they should leave the pack but for all I know they could be talking about their families back home. It's too dark for the Capitol lip reader to make out what they are saying much to the chagrin of the reporters.

When she reaches the cliff nearest the lake, Rue slips over the edge. It's only about a five foot drop and she makes it easily. At the bottom of the cliff, she takes time to get her bearings. She looks for any sign of Thresh on the ground at the base of the escarpment. In the pre-dawn light, I can see a few bent stalks that could indicate a path. Rue sees them too because she sets off to follow them. The wheat is as tall as her chest but it isn't so tall like the corn that they grow in Nine. The field is vast, but the cliffs on the other side are visible in the dim light.

That's where Thresh is but Rue doesn't know that. She's carefully navigating through the grain, making swishing noises with every step. She frowns but soldiers on, the sound is inevitable so long as she doesn't run it can be passed off as the wind.

The false dawn slips back into darkness and in the gray green world I can see a speck of brighter green near the base of a cliff. It's light. Probably from a fire. It's only visible from certain angles but Rue spots it.

If anything, she becomes even more cautious. Her gait slows to almost a crawl and she's tensed to drop into the field at a moment's notice. It's not necessary, the camera shows the audience that Thresh is still asleep, but Rue doesn't know that so her caution is warranted.

She gets to the opening of the cave and peeks in. She seems relieved that it's Thresh and not some other tribute. She steps to one side of the cave and backs away about ten or so feet. Then she whistles her recognition call.

Thresh starts awake, a knife clenched in one hand. "Who's there?" he asks warily.

"It's me," Rue replies from outside the cave.

"What're you doing here, little girl?" Thresh asks. He doesn't look happy to hear her, but at the same time doesn't look like he's going to charge her with his knife.

Rue ignores his question. "You gonna kill me?"

Thresh chuckles at the question. "This is the Hunger Games, little girl, only one of us gets to go home. But I won't kill you right now, if that's what you're asking. Later..."he trails off, letting her and the audience draw their own conclusions.

"That's fair," she says with a shrug. "You gonna come out of that cave and talk to me?"

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Thresh!" Rue exclaims, stomping her foot. "You get yourself out here right now!"

A smile crosses Thresh's lips and he gets to his feet and saunters out of the cave and into the pre-dawn pale light. "Yes, ma'am!"

Rue removes her night vision goggles and shakes her head. "You're so annoying sometimes."

"Now you sound like my little sister."

"She must be smart, then," Rue shoots back.

"She is," Thresh says with wistful smile. Then he looks down at his district partner. "So what'd you risk death for to find me?"

"You remember Peeta and Prim?" she asks.

"The two from Twelve that you palled around with during training? The kids on fire? They're kinda hard to forget, little girl. What of them?"

"Peeta's been hurt real bad. He got hurt saving me and Prim. I'm no good at being the protector so I thought..."

Thresh fills in what she was going to say. "You thought I could come fill that role?"

She nods.

"Why would I do that? I got everything I need right here and the Careers are scared pissless of me." He makes a good point. Why would he be willing to help? Why would he want to? He'd said it before, only one Tribute goes home.

Rue seems prepared for that question. "'Cause you're a good person, Thresh. You came and tucked me in at night when you thought I was asleep. You held me and let me cry on you on the train. You didn't kill me when you had the chance. You don't want to kill me now. So help me and Prim have a fighting chance. Show them that we don't have to play by their rules and kill each other just 'cause they want us to."

Another smile, this one almost rueful, crosses Thresh's lips. "You been planning that speech long, little girl?"

"Pretty much since I left, yeah. Did it work?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "It worked."

Rue beams and dashes over to give Thresh a hug.

He returns it briefly then pulls away. "So how is this gonna work?" he asks.

The girl from Eleven looks up at him. "We keep each other alive until all of the Careers are dealt with. Then we split up going our own separate ways to see which of us can outlast the rest."

"So no killing anyone in the alliance?"

"Not unless they try to kill you first," Rue amends. "Peeta put that in. I think so that if we're wrong about someone you aren't held my a promise they're no longer keeping."

"Peeta sounds like he's pretty smart," the large boy observes.

Rue smiles again. "Oh, he is! He's smart and nice and really sweet!"

"Sounds like someone's got a little crush."

"Maybe a little one," she says looking at her feet bashfully. "But he's in love with Prim's sister so..."

"It's okay, little girl." To his credit, Thresh doesn't give her any false platitudes about her finding someone else when she's older. Odds are she isn't going to get any older. "I think I can live with those rules. Kill all the Careers and not killing anyone in the alliance unless they try to kill me first. Yeah, those are doable." He looks down on her. "Okay, I'm in."

Rue gives Thresh another hug. "Yay! You're going to love Peeta and Prim. Well, once Peeta gets better. He's been sleeping because of the burns."

"I'm sure I will. Now, let me get my stuff and you can tell me all about it on the trip back."

**oOo**

I am able to go back to sleep after that and actually sleep more than a few hours. I guess knowing Rue was okay and that Thresh would help was a relief. It may also have been the revelation that Prim's alliance wasn't planning on killing each other after their alliance broke. Either way, it is nice to able to get some sleep that isn't plagued by nightmares.

When I wake up, it's close to noon. I'm surprised that neither Madge nor Gale has stopped by yet. I get up and take care of my morning needs. I deliberately do not turn on the television. I don't want the worry to start just yet. I grab my gathering bag after getting dressed, eating breakfast and milking Lady. I don't plan on going into the woods today but the Meadow has a lot of resources too.

I walk to the field to find that Gale is there with his siblings and Madge. Madge is seated with Posy in her lap and the two are discussing the merits of which flowers make the best jewelry. Vick, Rory and Gale are playing a game with some misshapen ball. The whole scene makes me smile.

"Morning!" I call.

The boys stop their game to wave at me and Madge and Posy get up. Posy runs over to me. "Katniss! Katniss! We's makin' chains!"

I smile down at the five year old. "You are? What kind of chains?"

"Dandelion and daisy chains. Madge says it'll make me pretty."

"You're already pretty."

Posy scrunches up her nose. "I'll be more pretty! Come on! You help!"

She grabs my hand and starts tugging me over to where Madge is standing. At her feet is a pile of various flowers mostly dandelions but a few others including Prim's namesake. Seeing that flower, I feel a stab of guilt. I should be watching the Games, in case anything happens. I owe it to Prim, and to Peeta for that matter, to see them through until the end even if that end is most likely death.

Madge seems to see that I am getting ready to bolt because she says, "You don't have to make flower chains with us if you have other plans."

I nod, grateful for the out. "I was just going to gather a few greens for lunch. Rue and Thresh are on their way back to the group and..."

"You want to see how Prim is doing," Madge finishes.

"It isn't just Prim," I say softly.

Madge raises her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"I want to see what happens with Peeta and Rue as well. I know I should only care about Prim, but I like them too."

"There's nothing wrong with liking someone," Madge soothes, pulling me away from the rest of the group.

"I don't like them like that!" I protest.

She bends down and picks a yarrow flower. "I didn't say you did."

"It just feels wrong. I know that they are Prim's competition. That only one of them can come home, but that doesn't mean I want to watch them die."

"And that's what separates you from the people in the Capitol." Madge regards me seriously. "You care about those people in there and want them all to be able to go home. They don't. They don't see us as human, just game pieces to live and die for their entertainment."

I'm shocked by her words. "Madge! Quiet! Someone might hear!"

"Who?" she asks looking back to point to where Posy is trying to convince her older brothers to play with her. "They're the closest."

I shake my head. "Still, it's not safe. Who knows who's listening?"

"It doesn't matter. The words are said. Besides, I'm just a kid what can they do to me?" She gives a little shrug and bends down to pick another flower.

I don't say what I think. That they can kill her, her family, anyone she's close to. I've heard stories of this being done in the past to people who've dared to defy the Capitol. Considering I'm her friend, I've got a vested interest in her not pissing the wrong people off.

My guilt and worry get the better of me and I cut my time in the Meadow short. Gale and the kids wave at me but I didn't really talk with them much. Which suited me just fine, after Madge's outburst I was left feeling even more on edge and troubled.

As soon as I get home I turn the television on, it's showing the Career Camp not Prim like I'd hoped. Most of the group is sleeping but both Cato and Clove are awake. They are leaning up against the Cornucopia. Her head is resting on his shoulder and their left hands are entwined. I wonder why the cameras are lingering on them when I see a small head pop up over the edge of the cliff leading to the wheat field. That explains it, Thresh and Rue are waiting for when the coast is clear to make their way across the clearing.

The two Careers don't notice the people watching them from the edge of the cliff. They are too engrossed in other worries. "When do you think we should strike out on our own?" Clove asks Cato, tilting her head up to look at him.

"Not until we take out the two males from Eleven and Twelve," Cato answers.

She makes a face. "I was afraid you'd say that. Not that I disagree, having numbers on our side would be a good idea., but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep myself from gutting Marvel. He's a liability."

"Agreed. Too bad Glimmer would likely kill us for putting him out of our misery."

"She'd try." Clove grins ferally.

Cato returns it and drops a kiss on her nose. "She'd try."

"After we kill Eleven and Twelve, what then?"

Cato seems to know that she's not asking about the immediate aftermath of Thresh and Peeta's death but something further down the line. "I'm not going to kill you," he vows.

"I don't think I can kill you either," Clove admits. "So what do we do?"

"The Capitol will figure something out," he says with conviction in his tone. "I'm sure of it. We've just got to give them a good Games and they'll reward us. You'll see."

"I hope so. All I've ever wanted was for both of us to be Victors and then start a family and have a whole family of Victors."

Cato tilts her head up and bends down to give her a deep kiss. She reaches up with her free hand to pull him closer.

I look away, feeling like I'm intruding on something private. I know the Capitol will be watching this and salivating over the two doomed lovers but I just feel sorry for them. They're lives are going to be ruined for the Capitol's pleasure. And there's absolutely nothing that can be done about it.

About another hour passes of them talking and making out, an hour I spend cleaning and listening for the announcers to tell me that either Rue and Thresh are on the move or they're going to show Prim's group. I'm not so lucky. Thankfully, Cato and Clove seem to think that sleeping to noon is enough and that it's time to go hunting.

"Get up," Clove announces, kicking Marvel for good measure.

The three resting tributes jolt awake and sit up.

Cato makes sure he has everyone's attention before saying, "We're going hunting."

"So early?" Marvel asks, yawning.

"It's not early. It's nearly noon and we've let Eleven and Twelve stay alive for far too long," Cato answers.

Clove smiles. "I want to get my hands on Twelve and show him that he shouldn't have taken my knives and not my life."

"Since we're going to be moving fast, one of you is going to stay here so you don't slow us down."

"Hey!" Marvel protests. "I can keep up just fine."

"He didn't name any names now did he?" Clove smirks. "But if you're feeling under the weather, I'm sure something can be done."

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Marvel snarls.

Clove just smiles and turns to look at Cato again.

The blond boy ignores the exchange and regards the boy from District Three. "You're going to stay behind Three. You're too loud and you don't run very fast."

Axel shrugs. "I figured. Those aren't important skills where I come from. I wouldn't mind a day of rest."

"Good," Cato says with a nod. "The rest of you, grab your gear. We're heading out."

Marvel, Glimmer and Clove grab weapons, canteens, and little food. Cato doesn't even bother with that. He only straps his sword onto his waist and slips a knife into one boot. When he sees that the rest of them are ready he sets off into the woods, skirting the lake. They must be making a round of the lake to see any tributes are camping out by it. Not a bad plan and it keeps them away from Prim's hiding place.

Axel watches them go and when he's sure that they're out of earshot, he is suddenly in motion. He weaves his way through the mines and pulls out three spools of wire. They're like the wire that Rue had in her pack so I think that it must be standard equipment for the Gamemakers to include. Then he bends down to one spot and carefully uncovers the mine buried there. He carefully hooks up the wire to the mine and reburies it. The whole process takes a little more than twenty minutes.

While he's messing with the mines, Rue's head pops up again and sees the coast is clear. She motions for Thresh to give her a boost and scrambles over the edge and takes off for the bushes on the edge of the forest. Thresh then hoists himself up and follows Rue.

When they're safely in the trees, Rue looks around to get her bearings and leads Thresh off in the direction of the stream and Prim and Peeta. If they're lucky, they'll get there by nightfall.

The camera moves from the Career Camp to Prim's cave. Inside, I see Prim seated behind Peeta checking his back. He's awake, sitting up, and eating some canned soup.

"So when did Rani get here?" he asks. I'm guessing he's just recently woke up and is getting caught up on the stuff he missed while passed out.

"Yesterday," Prim answers. "I was glad to see her. It's a little scary out here."

"That's an understatement," Peeta says with a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't been around to look after you."

"It's okay. You saved my life and got hurt for doing it. I owed you."

"You sound like your sister!" The smile widens.

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

Prim comes around to mock glare at Peeta. "You take that back or I'll tell everyone your secrets!"

Peeta waves his hands in front of him in surrender. "Okay. Okay, I take it back. You're nothing like Katniss. She'd never threaten to expose everything I've told her in confidence just because she can't take a joke."

"Yep! She'd just shoot an arrow into you and be done. I'm the nice one! And you'd better not forget it!"

"Yes, ma'am."

Prim sits back on her heels and looks up at Peeta. "You know, I don't know all of your secrets?"

"You don't? I thought I'd told you everything, Prim."

"Nope. You haven't told me when you fell in love with my sister!"

Peeta blushes and looks off to one side. "I haven't, have I?"

Prim shakes her head.

He rubs the back of his head. "It's not really much of a story. It was a long time ago. The first day of school, actually. My father walked me to school. He did that with all of us until we were old enough to walk ourselves and he noticed something. Or rather someone. Your sister. Her hair was in two braids, like yours," he says tugging playfully on one of her twin plaits. "And she was wearing a red checked dress. My father bent down and whispered to me. 'You see that girl over there?' And I nodded. 'Well, I wanted to marry her mother but she ran off with a coal miner.'

"I looked up at my father incredulously. I mean, my dad was the baker and I couldn't imagine anyone turning my father down. My father saw my confusion and smiled at me. 'He has something I don't.' he told me. 'He's got a voice that can make even the birds in the trees stop to listen.' That just confused me even more. Then a little later in the day, the teacher asked if anyone knew the Valley Song. For a few seconds no one raised their hand. We all knew the song, of course, no one wanted to volunteer though. Then your sister stood up and said she knew it. The teacher invited her down and told her to sing. I about fell out of my chair. Her voice was so sweet and pure. I listened and noticed that the birds, like my father said, stopped to listen to your sister sing. I fell in love right in that instant. I've been in love with her ever since."

"Oh," Prim says. "That's a long time." It is a long time. All these years. Is that why he helped me all those years ago? Because he's been in love with me since we were both five? It's the only explanation I can come up with. Peeta was right, I guess I am unobservant.

"Tell me about it." Peeta rubs the back of his head again and echoes my own thoughts. "For the longest time I don't think she even knew I existed."

"Well, she knows you exist now," Prim points out.

"That's true. She knows I exist now. I just wish I got to spend more time with her."

"You can if you win," Prim says.

Peeta shakes his head. "I'm not going to win, Prim, and we are not talk about this any further."

Unlike last time, Prim won't let herself be pushed aside. "Yes, we will, Peeta! We both know the odds and they aren't good. If I don't make it, you've got to win. One of us has to. For Katniss!"

What? For me? I'm stunned. What is Prim doing?

Peeta seems to see something I don't because he just smiles. "Using my own words against me, huh?"

"Yep! Whatever it takes."

"Fine, if by some extremely unlikely chance you happen to die before I do, I'll try to win for Katniss. Happy?"

Prim nods.

The camera cuts to just outside of the cave where Rani is seated. I can tell she'd heard the whole exchange. She doesn't look happy. I can't really blame her, after all her allies are talking about going home which means she isn't. That wouldn't make anyone happy.

The action changes back to the career pack. They're on the trail of some tribute, I don't know which one, but I do know it's either Tacoma from Seven or Clint from Ten. I'm not really interested as to which and unless something fantastic happens, the Gamemakers are going to be following the Careers for the foreseeable future. They might change back to Prim and Peeta when Rue and Thresh get there, but not before.

I have time to take a nap and decide to do it. I leave the television on but turn the volume down. I'm hoping that the excited shrieks of the commentators will wake me up if something unusual happens.

I wake up a few hours later when my mother comes home. She's got a bag of bread and a few other supplies. Whoever her most recent patient was must have had money. That means it's either a long time Peacekeeper or someone from town. No one in the Seam pays in food or money.

My mother pours me a glass of milk and I accept it with a small grimace. I see the cameras are now following Tacoma through a lightly wooded rocky hilled section of the Arena. The girl looks harried and rushed. I'm guessing she's the tribute the Careers have been following.

My suspicions are confirmed a few moments later with the cameras cut away to the Career pack hot on her trail. Clove is in the lead with Marvel bringing up the rear. They catch sight of her ahead of them running up the hill. They exchange tight grins at their prey.

"Run, District Seven. There's no place you can hide," Clove taunts.

Tacoma doesn't bother with a response, saving her breath for running. She's too heavy to climb easily and both Glimmer and Clove have distance attacks so she needs to stay far enough ahead so that she won't get into their range.

Tacoma's nears the top of the hill and stops to look over her shoulder. When she turns back, there's a wolf-like shape silhouetted at the crest.

Tacoma freezes.

The Careers initially let out a triumphant whoop until they notice the same silhouette that Tacoma did.

They stop dead in their tracks, Marvel stumbling into Glimmer accidentally.

Another form joins the first on the ridge followed by another and another. Over and over until twelve wolf-like forms of varying sizes and colors are standing on the crest of the hill.

A small one takes a step forward and that sets off a whole chain of events. The Careers break and scramble down the hill toward the lake and the Cornucopia beyond. Tacoma darts to her left and tries to run perpendicular to both the Careers and the muttations.

A few of the mutts start take off after the Careers but are quickly herded away by the largest of the pack. They whine in protest, but follow whatever orders they have been programmed with. The rest of the pack follow after Tacoma.

The girl is tired from her earlier run and after several hundred yards starts to slow. The pack dogs her heels, coming close enough to nip at her but never actually bite. Finally the girl whirls around, pulling out her weapon, a small hatchet. She must have gotten that from a sponsor, since she didn't have one on the recap after the Cornucopia.

The mutts circle her. They're not like real wolves in a lot of ways. Their fur is more like human hair and their eyes seem more human. Around their necks are collars with little medallions with numbers etched on them. I'm able to make out a three, four and six on a few. They also don't act like real wolves. They seem to be toying with Tacoma. Every so often, one will dart in from behind and nip at her and when she turns to attack darts away and another muttation will dart in.

On and on the taunting goes until finally in desperation, Tacoma flings her hatchet at one of the mutts with an eight on their collar. This seems to be what they were waiting for because the two mutts with six on their collars jump in.

The smaller of the two hamstrings the girl from Seven. Tacoma screams and falls to the ground. The larger of the two lunges forward and clamps his teeth around the girl's throat and shakes his head violently.

The sound of Tacoma's neck breaking is something I never will forget.

A cannon sounds.

The muttations step back to admire their handiwork and let out an unearthly howl of triumph. I shudder and turn away. I know that the Gamemakers would never let Tacoma live after her stunt in the interviews. But this, this was just cruel.

The trumpets blare and I wonder what kind of horrors the Gamemakers have planned next.

Claudius Templesmith's voice rings out. "Attention tributes. Attention. The regulations acquiring a single victor has been suspended. From now on, two victors may be crowned if both originate from the same district. This will be the only announcement."

Before I can process just what this means. There's a knock at the door.

My mother answers it and I turn to see two white uniformed Peacekeepers in the doorway.

* * *

AN:

Written 12/1/12

Revised 7/27/13

Beta Read by RoseFyre.

Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
13. Tacoma, District Seven, Killed by Muttations (specifically the male mutt from district Six)

Up Next: The reactions to the Gamemaker announcement and we find out why the Peacekeepers are knocking at Katniss' door.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_**By Fanfic Allergy**_

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

I can't even manage to gasp before both Peacekeepers are shoved to one side and Effie Trinket, the escort for District Twelve, waltzes in.

She looks around and wrinkles her nose. "Oh dear heavens! What an absolutely dreadful place this is! This wouldn't do at all, not at all!" she says, not even bothering to say hello.

We both gape at the pink bewigged woman like she's grown a second head. "What?" my mother finally manages to get out.

"The interviews!" Effie says like it explains everything.

"I thought they only did the interviews for the top eight." I'm confused. There are still eleven tributes left, three more to go before they interview the friends and family.

Effie turns to me. "Didn't you see the announcement?"

My mother and I both nod, of course we saw it. The announcement was only moments before.

"Well, then, you know all about it! Since two tributes can win so long as they are from the same district, that means that each team remaining counts as one tribute!" she says triumphantly. It makes a weird kind of sense, if you count each of the four remaining district pairs of One, Two, Eleven and Twelve as one and the singleton tributes from Three, Five, and Ten also as one you have seven tributes remaining. Even if one member from the remaining pairs dies, you'd still have seven tributes according to this logic.

"But why wouldn't our house do for our interviews?" my mother asks.

The Capitol woman gives our house a cursory appraisal. "It's so dingy, dirty, and depressing," she giggles a little at her alliteration. "No one wants to see that! Least of all the sponsors in the Capitol," she says pointedly giving the two of us a quick glance. "That's why it's so much better if we take all of the family members to the Capitol, give them makeovers, and have them interviewed by none other than Caesar Flickerman himself!"

"So all of the remaining tributes' families are going to the Capitol?" I ask.

"Isn't that what I just said?" her voice indicates her annoyance.

"You'll have to forgive my daughter, it's just a big change from how things used to happen," my mother excuses me.

"I know! It was President Snow's idea. Isn't it just genius? You get to come to the Capitol and see all of the wondrous sights it has to offer. You get to stay in the same quarters that the tributes stay in, eat the same food, and watch the Games at a state of the art facility. He's such a generous man!" Effie gushes.

I see another reason for President Snow's generosity. Hostages. We're going to be hostages to ensure our loved ones' good behavior. There must be something going on for him to go to these lengths as well as to allow the rule change. I think back to Madge's words in the Meadow earlier. Maybe she's not the only one who's voicing their displeasure with the Games. Cato and Clove, their love is clearly doomed and that can't sit well with people. Then there's Rue and Prim, both so young and with the odds clearly not in their favor, but still endearing and lovable. Finally there's Peeta, the man so in love with his district partner's sister, me, that he's willing to die to make sure she goes home to her family. No, I can see how this year, in particular, circumstances have made these Games a potential flashpoint for rebellion.

"I guess when you put it that way," my mother says slowly. "How can we say no?"

Effie beams at us. "Exactly! We have a big, big, big day ahead of us. So snap to it!"

"Is there anything we should bring with us?" my mother asks.

The District Twelve escort looks up and down with an expression on her face like she smells something rotten. "I certainly wouldn't bring any clothes," she says with a sniff. "But maybe something personal and relevant to your interview, like a stuffed animal of Prim's or the first flower you got from Peeta, Katniss."

"I ate it," I say drily.

"Oh well, yes. Not that then," Effie stumbles . She looks around our house and her eyes light upon the sketches Peeta drew. "Oh! These are exquisite! I'd love to meet the artist. Maybe commission them for a portrait."

I smile ruefully, naturally she'd notice those. "You've already met the artist."

Effie turns, blinking at me in confusion. "I have?"

"Peeta drew those."

She taps her cheek as she regards the sketches again. "My, my, isn't he a man of talent? Well, it'd be a shame to lose this kind of talent. I guess we'll just have to make sure he wins now, won't we?" She gives me a look I can't decipher.

I nod my head, unsure if I should agree with the woman or not. Now that both he and Prim can win, I want them both to come home. But if I do, will she take it the wrong way? Probably.

"We should definitely take these with us," Effie decides. "I'm sure that if more people in the Capitol see this talent they will want to preserve it." She studies them again. "He certainly knows how to capture a moment. You actually look lovely in a few of these."

I stifle a snort. "Thanks."

"Anything else? Anything of Prim's?"

My mother shakes her head. "We don't have a lot and her stuffed bear fell apart years ago." Yes, about five years ago to be exact. After my father died, my sister sobbed into that bear until his stuffing fell out. She still cuddled with it until something new took the bear's place, Buttercup.

Thinking of the cat, I look around. He's nowhere to be seen. "What should we do about Buttercup?" I ask. "Prim wouldn't like it if we didn't take care of him."

"Buttercup?" Effie asks.

"Prim's cat," my mother explains. "And there's also her goat, Lady."

"Yes, that could be a problem. Anyone you can ask to look after them? They would not be appropriate to bring with you to the Capitol. I mean, think of the carpet!"

My mother and I share a look, we both know that Hazelle and Gale would be ideal but do we want to involve them?

"Maybe Madge?" I suggest. "She's the Mayor's daughter."

"Is she a friend of yours?" Effie asks in surprise. She must think I'm trying to put on airs. Like anyone in the Seam'd do that, we have more important things to do, like stay alive.

I nod. "We go to the same school."

"Ah. Well, you can go ask her while I fetch the Mellarks. We don't have all day, you know."

Taking it for the dismissal that it is, I glance over at my mother who makes a shooing motion. I smile gratefully at her and turn toward the door. There, one of the Peacekeepers, the same one from the Justice building, Gneiss, accompanies me to Madge's house. She doesn't try to have a conversation and for that I am extremely grateful. I could do without the honor of going to the Capitol, having to fake my excitement and pleasure is going to be tough. I want to do it as little as possible.

At the Mayor's house, I knock on the door and the maid answers. She sees the Peacekeeper with me and her eyes widen. I ask for Madge and the woman nods her head.

"Do you need to go in with me?" I ask Peacekeeper Gneiss.

The woman gives me an odd look before asking, "You planning on running away?"

I shake my head. I'd likely get caught and even if I didn't, my family would pay for it.

"Then I can wait out here," the female Peacekeeper says.

"Thanks." I'm a little confused why she's so nice to me, but I hazard it has something to do with my pregnancy. I don't remember her as one of the Hob customers and she hasn't bought anything from me. Still, I'm not about to turn down kindness from a Peacekeeper.

Madge comes downstairs, I can see her eyes are wary. "What's going on?" she asks.

"They're taking my mother and me to the Capitol. For the final eight interviews."

Madge catches on faster than I did earlier. "So they're counting each of the district pairs as one, huh?"

"Seems that way. But since my mother and I will be gone we need someone to look after Lady and Buttercup for us."

She looks confused for a moment then realization dawns. She knows I mean for her to get Gale to care for the animals and not her, although the thought of Madge trying to milk Lady is a funny one. "I'll make sure they're well taken care of. How are you doing?"

"I'll be okay," I reassure her. "I'm sure nothing will happen, the Capitol just doesn't want to see our depressing poverty. You know how it is."

Her eyes tell me she knows exactly how it is. "I do. You take care of yourself. I'll see you when you get back."

I want to stay longer, say more. But I know better. "Thanks. Say goodbye to everyone for me."

"I will."

I give my friend a quick hug and she shows me out. Gneiss nods at me and we walk toward the bakery. Once again we walk in silence. I prefer it that way and I'm grateful that the Peacekeeper understands.

When we get there I notice that parked in front of the building are two cars. I've never been in one before, there's no need in Twelve. It's a small enough district that you can walk most everywhere. Effie is waiting on the porch tapping one high heeled foot.

When she spots me, she lets out an impatient snort. "I was wondering when you would show up. It's a big, big, big day and we've got a schedule to keep."

"We do?" I ask. I figured it doesn't matter so long as Prim and Peeta are still alive when we get interviewed.

"Of course, we do! Why, we don't want to keep Cinna or Portia waiting. I even had them send their prep teams with us on the train so they could start the preliminary work."

"Um, that's very efficient of you?" I say hesitantly.

Effie beams at me. "That's what I told Haymitch! He didn't want to send them. But I told him if we did the preliminary work on the train then we'd be first to get to the interviews. The early bird gets the pearl as they say!"

"I thought the early bird got the worm?" I ask wryly.

"Who wants worms?" Effie says with a shudder. "Yuck. No, I'm sure it's pearls. Everyone likes those."

I shake my head at the woman but climb into the back of the car anyway. A few moments later I'm joined by my mother and Peeta's eldest brother, Bing. Mr. Mellark, his wife, and his middle son, Farl get into the car behind us. Effie looks back and forth between vehicles before deciding to climb into my car. I don't blame her, I wouldn't want to be in a closed, confined space with Mrs. Mellark either.

The car ride is silent. Or as silent as it can be with Effie talking about the stylists and the Capitol. But other than a few non-committal grunts none of the rest of us says anything. I'm not really sure what I'd say anyway.

The interior of the train is like nothing I've ever seen. It's sumptuous and filled with luxuries that no one in Twelve would even think of owning. It puts the Mayor's richly appointed house to shame.

I don't get a lot of time to look around because I'm immediately descended on by a trio of chattering Capitol people. This must be the prep team that Effie's mentioned. I don't even have time to put up a protest before I am whisked off to a large compartment in another car.

When we get there, they start to remove my clothing and I finally find my voice. "Stop! What are you doing?"

The three pause and look at each other, expressions of dismay clear on their heavily made up faces. "We're here to make you pretty," the woman with dyed green skin says after a few seconds.

"Oh please, Octavia, you're giving her far too much credit," the other woman with aqua spikes and gold tattoos scoffs. "We're going to do our best to make you look presentable. It's not going to be easy. You are nothing like Primrose. She was a dream."

The mention of Prim reminds me why I am on this train and in this car. "You did this for my sister, right?"

The three nod.

I don't know how Prim handled that, she's been very body-shy since she's entered adolescence. "What are your names?" I ask and realize that my voice sounds harsh so I try again. "I mean, I'd like to know the names of the people who made my sister look even more like an angel."

The male of the trio beams at me. "Didn't I tell you she'd understand? Well, didn't I?"

The woman with aqua spikes rolls her eyes. "You did, Flavius. And I still stand by my original statement that you're giving her too much credit. Why, I bet she's never waxed her legs before."

"That's not a fair bet, Venia," Flavius whines. "You know no one out in the districts waxes."

I raise an eyebrow at this completely confused as to what this waxing they are referring to is. "Um, so where do we want to start?" I ask to try to get back to the subject at hand. If I have to be made pretty, I'd rather it be done as quickly as possible.

"Hair," Octavia states.

"Nails," Flavius counters.

"Both, and I'll start on the waxing. Maybe if we get this done fast enough we can actually get some sleep tonight," Venia says with an eye on the clock on the wall.

The other two stylists nod and beckon to me but I hold up one hand. "What about my mother and the Mellarks?" I ask. "Don't you have to do them too?"

Venia taps the side of her cheek. "Your mother, yes. The Mellarks are being done by Portia's team. We're Cinna's prep team," she explains as if that means something.

It doesn't, but I nod anyway. I suspect that asking any more questions will annoy them.

Taking my nod as an indication to start their ministrations, the three descend on me. Flavius clucks disapprovingly at the state of my fingernails which are short and ragged from work. He spends a lot of time buffing and filing them before covering them with a clear layer of some kind of paint.

At the same time, Octavia starts on my hair pouring chemicals and glop on it then instructing me to lay back against a sink I didn't see when I came into the room to rinse it all out before starting again. I can't see what she is doing and I fervently hope that my hair won't be pink or some other unnatural color when she is done.

Then Venia starts on the waxing and I fight to keep myself from reacting as the hot wax is smeared on my leg. I lift my head to say something when the woman violently yanking the wax away from part of my leg distracts me. This time I'm unable to stifle the moan that comes out and the woman looks up at me. "This wouldn't be so bad if you weren't so hairy," she says unsympathetically. "It's like you've never even shaved, waxed or depilatoried before."

"I haven't," I answer, unsure of what the last option was but guessing it had to do with body hair.

"Well, then it's your fault it's so bad."

I want to ask if there is a less painful option but decide against it. For all of their frivolousness, the three are Capitol citizens and I'm not. I don't know if one or all of them are spies or Peacekeepers in disguise. It's better not to antagonize them. "I'm sorry," I say instead. "I've just never had the opportunity to do so."

Venia nods and the three continue their work. As they prepare me, they talk about the Games and how excited they are that one of their tributes has made it so far. They also talk about Cinna's genius with costumes and reassure me that what he has planned for my mother and I are perfect.

The fact that Cinna had time to plan makes me wonder just how long President Snow was planning on having the final eight interviews held in the Capitol. I can guess since the Games began and it was clear that there were two sets of district partners that would be unwilling to kill the other. Nothing like trying to get the tributes to do what you want by blackmailing them in the arena. The history books mention that in one of the early Games the tributes tried refusing to kill each other and the Capitol retaliated by sending each protesting tribute a body part from one of their loved ones. The books try to play up how benevolent the Capitol was in the face of such horrible and treasonous insurrection because none of the loved ones were killed only maimed. But the message was clear, do what the Capitol wants or it's not just you who suffers but your family and friends as well.

It's a sobering thought.

The three finish and direct me to send my mother in next. I nod, too tired and hungry to do much else. Octavia hands me a soft black dress with a flame pattern around the hem. I accept it gratefully and pull it on.

My mother is waiting for me in the next room. "There's food on the table if you're hungry," she says by way of greeting. "Effie's waiting for you."

I wrinkle my nose. "I'm pretty tired." I don't want to talk to the District Twelve escort.

"You can sleep later. This is important," my mother replies, before going into the room I just came out of. I stare at the closed door for a few moments before turning back to the sitting room.

I can make out the poufy pink wig of the District Twelve escort on the far side of the room as well as the table laid out with a variety of foods. Deliberately ignoring the woman my mother said was waiting for me, I walk over to the buffet and pick up a plate. The surface is covered with fruits, breads and meats of all kinds. More food than I've seen in my life and enough to feed my mother, Prim and I for a few months. It's yet another clear display of power and control from the Capitol. I pick up a plate and fill it up. I might as well eat up while I can.

From behind me, I hear the high heeled clack of Effie Trinket. "Oh good, you're here! I just had a lovely chat with your mother, she's really a lovely woman. Much like your sister."

I make a non-committal sound and help myself to several cured meats.

"I want to go over a few things with you before we arrive in the Capitol. Etiquette, protocol, manners, you know, things like that."

"Afraid I'm going to offend someone?" I ask drily, glancing over my shoulder to see Effie hovering behind me.

"Exactly," she says with a nod. "It's important that you make the right kind of impression with potential sponsors. It could mean life or death for your sister and boyfriend."

I about drop the plate I am carrying. "Boyfriend?"

She purses her lips. "No, I suppose that is too light of a term, all things considered." She eyes my stomach pointedly. "I don't suppose he's asked you yet."

"Asked me what?"

She shakes her head. "No, of course he hasn't, probably never crossed his mind."

Setting my plate down on the table, I give the escort a hard look. "Look, Ms. Trinket-"

"Effie," she interrupts.

"Effie. I'm not like my mother or my sister. If there's something you want to tell me, just say it."

She frowns. "No, I can see you are nothing like your sister at all. More's the pity."

I'd take more offense if I didn't know she was right. I'm nothing like Prim and I'm grateful my sister is nothing like me. "So what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" I ask, sitting down and cutting up my food.

Effie follows my movements with her eyes before pouring herself a cup of coffee and liberally doctoring it with various things. Sitting down across from me, she clears her throat and begins, "From the moment we arrive at the Capitol, you will be in the public eye. Every act scrutinized, every word heard."

I nod. She's not saying anything that I don't already know.

"Therefore it is imperative that you do your utmost to put your best face forward. Cinna and his team will take care of your wardrobe, but that is not enough. Caesar Flickerman will be interviewing all of the family members starting tomorrow morning. Unfortunately due to Twelve's remoteness," she pauses to frown in annoyance, "we will be unable to secure the first interviews."

"And this is bad?"

"Of course, it's bad! The more time between interviews the greater the chance that something will happen to sway the sponsors to supporting another district. Surely you've noticed that other than your gift to your sister we haven't had any other gifts."

I nod. "I assumed that was because people don't like to support District Twelve."

"They don't," Effie says crisply. "But this year we have a tribute who's actually a contender and managed to take out one of the frontrunners early on too, but then he had to ruin his chances by announcing publically that he wasn't planning on winning. Naturally, no sponsor wants to support a loser."

"But why aren't they supporting Prim?" I ask. "Peeta's announced he's protecting her. That's got to count for something?"

"It would, if she could prove that she was not a liability and her healing Peeta doesn't count. Why even that girl from Eleven has a kill. So far your sister hasn't even managed to kill a fly much less another tribute."

I press my lips together to keep from snapping at the woman. I don't want my twelve year old little sister to lose her innocence like that even if it is pretty much unavoidable in the Games if you want to live. "And you think that I can do something about this." It isn't a question.

"We have an opportunity here with the rule change. People will support Peeta, especially now that he's recovered mostly and Prim will no longer be seen as a long shot to win. But we still have other obstacles and we could very well lose any sponsors to the team from Eleven unless we do something to make our team stand out. That's where you come in."

"Me?"

"Yes, you're the string that binds the two together. Prim's sister. Peeta's love. If anyone can convince the sponsors to open their wallets it's you." She beams at me. "Which is why it's ever so important that we make sure that everyone loves you. So when you talk about Peeta and Prim they'll want to reunite your little family."

I can't keep the frown from my face. I'm not comfortable with the thought of Peeta as a part of my family. I owe him a debt, one that would be a lot easier to repay if he were alive, but still I'm not sure I want to fake being his girlfriend to get sponsors. "I'll do my best," I say after a few more bites of food. "I'm not as lovable as Prim is."

"That much is obvious," Effie sniffs. "Still you do have one thing going for you." She motions to my stomach. "Do you know what you're having?"

I shake my head. We don't have that kind of technology in Twelve.

The escort sighs. "Have you even seen a doctor yet?"

"No," I answer, shaking my head again. "My mother's a healer and we can't afford to go to the doctor in town."

Giving me a look that I can only describe as exasperated, Effie stands up. "Well, I know one phone call I will be making tonight. You need to see a doctor and get all of the standard tests. Why just looking at you, you're far too thin. Have you been taking your vitamins?" She doesn't let me answer. "No, of course you haven't. I shouldn't even bother asking. I don't suppose you can walk in heels."

The non-sequitur startles me. "No."

"Well, we can start there. Finish up, we have a lot of ground to cover."

For the next two hours, Effie tries to teach me how to be an elegant Capitol lady. She gives up on trying to get me to walk in heels as high as hers, settling on a two inch heel rather than four. Even so, it's all I can do to not break my ankles. She also tries to teach me how to make small talk and charm people. It's a study in futility. I am not charming and I know it. About the best I can hope for is to not come across as sullen and surly. Even my smiles are unsatisfactory to Effie's critical eye. She makes me stand in front of a mirror and practice smiling for almost an hour of our time, all the while chattering on at me about the various ways to win sponsors. The whole thing is exhausting.

When she finally releases me to go to bed, I stumble down the corridor of the train to the sleeping quarters. Most of the rooms have been claimed by the Mellarks but there are still two compartments that are unclaimed. I take the first one that's available and collapse on the bed fully clothed.

I lay there for I don't know how long waiting for the exhaustion I feel to take me off to sleep. Except it doesn't. My body is tired but my mind is racing. I am apprehensive about what the Capitol has in store. I'm also worried about Prim. What Effie says about her not getting sponsors repeats over and over in my head. It's true that she's not a killer and it shows and despite her winning personality it's not enough to get over that obstacle. Prim might be able to outlast the competition if she has help but she can't outfight them so she won't get that help. It's the perfect no-win situation.

I roll over and get up. If I can't sleep, I might as well watch the Games. I glance at the clock on the bedside table and note that it's after one in the morning. At this time of night, most of what they show is recaps of the day's events with a real-time inset of the surviving tributes sleeping. Only if there is something exciting going on will they stop the recaps.

I tiptoe through the train until I find a room with a television. I turn it on and turn down the volume so that I don't wake anyone up. Like I thought, it's showing recaps of the day. I turn away when they show Tacoma's death, I don't need to watch the girl be mauled by mutts again. But after the announcement, they show the various tributes' reactions.

Cato and Clove are ecstatic, understandably. The large boy pulls the smaller girl into his arms and kisses her enthusiastically. The reporter, a young woman with silver streaked spiked hair, talks exuberantly about how sweet it is that two lovers now have the chance to go home. I admit that in about any other year, I would feel sympathy for them. But not this year. When they separate, Cato lifts his head and yells out a big "Thank you!" to the cameras. It's clear that he feels that the Capitol is rooting for them, and they likely are.

Behind the two lovers, Glimmer and Marvel have wildly differing reactions. Marvel suddenly perks up. He now has a chance of winning despite his injuries. While Glimmer looks annoyed. It's clear she isn't fond of her district partner, but she knows that with this announcement she's now expected to work as a team. It's also clear from the way she's stroking her bow that she's debating attacking the two from District Two and killing them while they are distracted. But she doesn't. The reporter theorizes it's because of the bond that they've formed. Personally, I think it's more likely that it's because Thresh and Peeta are still at large.

The cameras show Thresh and Rue next. The boy and girl from Eleven both act relieved at the announcement. They're both still making their way back to the camp by the stream but since it's getting late and they only have one set of night vision goggles, they decide to make camp under the trunk of a fallen tree. As they curl up against each other for warmth, Thresh confesses that he's glad that he doesn't have to kill Rue and that they can both go home to their families. Rue just nods and pats the large boy's arm in understanding.

Back at the cave, Prim is overjoyed and positively bouncing with glee. Peeta's reaction is more subdued, almost wary. He's happy and for the first time I can see hope in his eyes that he'll survive. But it's not the effusive happiness that the other pairs have shown. The reporters comment that he's likely still woozy from his burns but I don't think that's it at all. I know that if I were in his place, I'd think it was too good to be true. The Gamemakers aren't kind and I can tell that he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Then the reporter shows the reactions of the three tributes who do not have a district partner. Axel is first and his reaction is odd to say the least. He doesn't look upset or annoyed, but gets a little smile on his face. He quickly wiped\s it off and goes to the supply pile to get a can of soup winding his way through the mines in an odd hopping dance. It might be my imagination, but the dance looks different than the previous time I'd seen Rani do it.

Speaking of Rani, they show her reaction next. It isn't much of one. If anything, she just looks sad for a few moments before continuing her patrol of the area.

Finally they show Clint, from District Ten. His is the reaction that I'd expected to see. Anger. The lame boy is angry. Angry that his partner is dead. Angry that he now has double the competition since the district partnerships will hold and he'll be effectively fighting two against one. Clint is pissed. And I can't blame him, if I were in his shoes, I would be too.

The screen stops showing the recaps and I wonder at the reason why. The grey green of the night vision cameras focuses in on Rani from Five. The girl is still sitting watch outside the cave and I can see her scrub at her eyes every so often. She's been crying, probably because of the announcement. Through the speakers, I can hear the unmistakable tinkling sound of a sponsorship parachute being dropped.

Rani hears it too and she gets to her feet and starts looking around for it. The silvery grey material reflects dimly in the moonlight and the girl makes her way towards it. The container it suspends is small, fitting in the girl's hands comfortably. Deactivating the beacon, she moves away from the cave to get a better look at what she's been sent. When she opens the container she lets out a little gasp and then closes it back up again quickly. I don't get a good look at the contents but from what I can make out they look like berries. Dark, shiny, round berries. Then, it hits me and I feel my stomach clench.

Nightlock.

* * *

**AN:**

Special thanks to my beta reader for this chapter: RoseFyre.

I was honest when I said updates would slow down. I didn't mean to have them slow down as much as they have, though. I have reasons for it, lots of reasons. But the biggie is that my mother had breast cancer in both breasts and it was very aggressive. It was discovered soon after I put out my last chapter and I haven't really been able to work on things because of that and other real life issues. She's currently had two surgeries and is recovering, which is of the good. There's more, but I don't want a pity party. But I will say that until real life decides to stop making me its buttmonkey updates will be sporadic and infrequent. I'm sorry. I plan to get this done before the next Nano because I want to work on the sequel to this for next year's Nanowrimo. Yes, I do have a sequel planned. And a few side stories. I like this universe. I want to play in it and I can't unless I get this first part written.

For those of you who have a twitter account, I post updates about how chapter progress is going and other things to my twitter. The link is on my profile.

**Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.**  
None!

A big thank you goes out to my reviewers for Last Chapter - Bohemian Anne, FullDarkNoLight, VMars lover, pemberton500, ShortySC22, Guest, Guest, Everlark Lover, Silverbelle, Guest, SophiePemberto, Guest, Lovegirl45, Pandora6373, AutumnWillow18, Random Thought Girl, Guest, 123LovePeeta, anonymous.

Up Next: Katniss arrives at the Capitol and an alliance is betrayed.

Please Review!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_**By Fanfic Allergy**_

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

There is no way I am going to be able to sleep, not when Rani has the means to kill my sister. I immediately come to the conclusion that she's had this planned from the beginning, get close to several of the tributes then kill them off surreptitiously using the nightlock berries.

Nightlock is another of those horrible muttations that the Capitol uses to keep the districts penned in and under control. They look like blueberries only with the dusty coating rubbed off. The plant they grow on is similar to the blueberry bush as well so unless you've been trained to tell the difference between the two, it's easy to poison yourself and anyone else you share the berries with.

I'd been teaching Prim how to identify edible plants, but I'd never shown her nightlock before. Which is my and Gale's fault, all of the nightlock plants that we find, we uproot so there's no chance of us or anyone else finding the berries and eating them. No one knows what they taste like either since the berries kill so quickly. My father always used to say that they'd kill you as soon as the poison hit your stomach. Now, that same poison is in the hands of someone with a vested interest in my sister's death.

I tune out the excited babbling of the commentators and watch Rani intently to try to figure out what she is planning. The girl didn't look happy with her gift, I recall, if anything she looked shocked. The shock has faded from her features, but the unhappiness remains. That gives me hope.

The girl walks back to the cave, secreting the small container into one of her pockets. She takes one more look around to make sure the coast is clear and enters the small opening. There, she walks over to Prim and shakes her awake.

"Get up, sleepyhead. It's time for your watch."

Prim rolls over and blinks up at the foxfaced girl. "Any sign of Rue or Thresh?"

Rani shakes her head. "No, but they weren't in the recap shown tonight. Tacoma was though."

Nodding her head, Prim gets up. "I'm glad we didn't have to go up against her. She was really good with her axe."

"Yeah, well apparently not good enough. Someone or something got her and we don't want it to get us so get to watching. I want to get some sleep."

"Thanks, Rani!" Prim says, giving the girl a quick hug. "I don't know what Peeta and I would do without you. I wish..." she trails off.

"I know, squirt, I wish the same thing too. The Games suck."

"You shouldn't say that!" Prim chides. "You don't want to make people mad."

"Let 'em get mad. I'm mad. I finally make some friends and the Capitol expects me to kill them. It's all kinds of messed up."

Prim looks away. "Are you sorry you're my friend?"

Rani gives her another hug. "No, I'm not sorry. I'm just sorry that we both can't go home." The girl then flops down and pulls a blanket up over herself. "But there's nothing I can do about it. So I'm not going to worry about that right now. And don't you worry about it, squirt. Things'll work out. You'll see. Now get!"

Prim gets.

I want to scream at my sister not to trust the girl from Five. That Rani is going to betray them. But I know Prim can't hear me and that screaming at the television doesn't help, no matter what some people say.

I lay down on the couch and watch my sister set up her observation post. Unlike Rani, she doesn't walk around patrolling but instead finds a tree with a good line of sight on the clearing. Then she pulls out one of Clove's pilfered throwing knives and waits and watches.

There must not be anything else going on because the action switches back to recaps. I turn down the volume but don't get up. I can't. Prim is in danger and I can't leave her. I know it's just superstitious but I feel so long as I'm watching over her, she'll make it through.

I let myself drift off to the muffled sounds of the Games and the gentle swaying of the train.

The sensation of someone's fingers gently stroking my hair drags me back up into consciousness. I blink at the warm dawn light and look up to see that my mother has joined me.

"The girl from Five has nightlock," I say by way of greeting.

"I know," she answers. "They've shown that part and even promised to have a scientist come in and explain the significance of the gift a little later in the morning."

"I don't need someone to explain it."

"The people in the Capitol aren't as knowledgeable as you. I bet there are some people watching who are wondering why Uranium isn't eating her gift."

"I wish she'd eat them," I say under my breath.

My mother doesn't respond, but continues stroking my hair like she used to when I was young. I let myself revel in the sensation before getting up to use the toilet.

I take care of my morning needs and wander back to the room I'd claimed as my own to get a fresh set of clothing. We'd be arriving in the Capitol later this morning and Effie's words about getting the sponsors to love me and thus Prim and Peeta rings in my ears. They aren't going to love me if I show up looking tired and disheveled, even if that is how I feel. Pulling on a simple green shirt and black pants, I figure this is as good as I'm going to get without professional help.

When I return to the viewing room. I see that Effie is already there as well as Mr. Mellark and Venia from the prep team. Venia looks up when I enter and immediately pulls a comb and a few hairpins out of the little apron around her waist. Apparently, I'm not quite good enough but she's going to make sure I make a statement.

As she's doing my hair, Effie gives everyone their schedules. The Mellarks and my mother are to go to the Makeover Center to meet with the stylists and get any last minute alterations. Me, I'm going to be taken to the Medical Center to have a check-up. Cinna will meet me there later, after he finishes with my mother, to go over my outfit for the interview. Effie says that Haymitch has managed to swing the last interviews for us with me being the final interviewee.

I raise an eyebrow and ask, "Don't we want to go early?"

Effie shakes her head. "We wanted to go first," she corrects. "But since we can't, we want to go last. Make a final impression and overshadow anyone else who's gone ahead. Being in the middle is useless, no one remembers you unless you do something incredibly stupid and we don't want incredibly stupid." She gives me a pointed look.

"I'll remember that," I reply drily.

"See that you do! Now, I've made arrangements for food to be brought here so that we can watch the first interviews."

"Who got the first spot?" my mother wants to know.

A strange expression crosses Effie's face. "District One. I should have remembered that one of the interviewees was in the Capitol for the Games."

"Which one?" Mr. Mellark asks, but I already know the answer. Glimmer's father, Striker Diamante, is a former victor. Naturally he'd be in the Capitol for the Games.

Effie confirms my knowledge and adds, "He's the ranking male mentor of the District One contingent since Auric Luxor died during the Fifty Sixth Games."

Frowning at that detail, I struggle to remember who Auric Luxor was. He died before I was born but something about the way Effie says his name tells me that he's important. But I can't for the life of me figure out why.

I don't get any time to ponder the escort's words because the action on the television changes from recaps to the Career Camp.

In the early morning light, I can see that Axel from Three is awake and standing near the camp with a spear held awkwardly in his hands. I wonder what's put him on high alert when I hear it. The unmistakable sound of something crashing through the undergrowth. It is possible that the Gamemakers, annoyed at the lack of action, have set one of their muttations on the boy. But they typically save shows like that for better viewing hours and after Caesar and Claudius have taken over in the afternoon. Still, the crashing gets louder and louder and Axel is getting more and more nervous.

When the threat finally appears, I can see Axel's reaction clearly. Shock. Relief. Then wariness.

It's the Careers.

Axel carefully sets the spear down and picks up a small box and slips it into his pocket before calling out a greeting, "Welcome back!"

"Anything happen?" Clove asks curtly.

The boy from Three shakes his head.

'Figures," Cato grumbles. "I'm never going to get a decent kill count if things keep going the way they are."

"There, there," the girl from Two soothes. "There's still nine people we have to kill, then we can go home."

Glimmer clears her throat. "Um, hello? Three of those people are standing right here and unless my math is wrong we outnumber you."

"Marvel and Three? You're joking right?" Cato scoffs.

Marvel takes a step forward and shifts his grip on his spear into a more aggressive stance. "Don't count me out. I can still take you out."

Clove snorts.

"Okay, all of you, stop it!" Glimmer interjects. It's clear that despite her annoyance with her allies that she's not willing to let the group break down into chaos. "Unless you want to end this alliance right now, I suggest we all calm down and take a breather. All in favor of ending the alliance now while Eleven and Twelve are still out there and at full strength say so now."

No one says anything.

"I didn't think so," Glimmer says with a smirk.

Cato grumbles a little under his breath but seems to get the point. "I'm hungry," he announces. "Get me some food, Three!"

"Get it yourself, Two," Axel counters. "I'm tired and going to go sleep." He looks around at the faces of the four Careers. "Somewhere other than with you."

"You leaving the alliance, Three?" Clove asks, fingering one of her knives.

Axel shakes his head. "Please, you think I'd be stupid enough to announce that now? No, I just don't feel like sleeping with the four of you while you're feeling bloodthirsty. One of you might cut my throat while I'm asleep."

Marvel has the decency to look chagrinned. It's clear that he was thinking of doing just that. Rolling her eyes at her district partner, Glimmer gives Axel an understanding glance.

The tribute from Three grabs his bedroll and walks away from the Careers in the opposite direction from the supply pile. He gets to about 20 feet from the edge of the forest and tosses the bedroll down. The Careers watch him warily to make sure he doesn't bolt. But when he slips into the sleeping bag, they seem to relax and go about their day.

Glimmer and Marvel thread their way through the mines to the supply pile and start to rummage around in it. While behind them, Cato and Clove make a trek down to the lake to get water.

A hint of motion catches my and the camera's attention: Axel is wriggling in his bedroll. He pulls the small box out and up to his face and opens it. Inside is an odd device with various wires trailing off of it. He extends two of the wires toward the supply pile and then flips a switch.

From across the clearing, a series of explosions take place starting near the supplies then near the camp. For a moment, I'm confused. Then I remember. The mines. The device Axel is using is setting off the mines.

Marvel is the first to fall when one of the wooden boxes explodes near him. His body is riddled with shrapnel and splintered wood, taking out his other eye. He collapses to the ground, dead.

Glimmer tries to run as soon as the first detonation takes place. However in the confusion she steps on a buried mine. The resulting explosion reduces the girl's body to a fine red mist. Beside me, I hear Effie gasp in horror. It is a horrible death.

But it's not over. All over the clearing, mines are exploding. They take out the camp and supply pile along with Marvel's body. Down by the lake, a mine goes off about twenty feet away from where Cato and Clove are getting water. The shockwave knocks the two Careers off of their feet. Clove is thrown into the water and Cato is hurled down the edge of the beach.

He recovers first and immediately looks for Clove. She's struggling to her feet, blood streaming down her face from where the shrapnel nicked her scalp. He sees her and shouts, "Clove!" and starts making his way toward her. His face is agonized seeing her injury.

"I'm fine!" she replies, pushing her hair out of her face. "Get Three!"

Cato looks conflicted but nods once. He turns to survey the clearing, his eyes changing from concerned to calculating, and searches for his prey.

While the explosions have been going off, Axel has been struggling to get out of his bedroll quickly. He's hampered because his zipper's gotten stuck so he's wriggling out of the sleeping bag. He manages to get free and stands up to take stock of the situation. He smiles when he doesn't see any of the Careers. He turns around to pick up the bedroll and that's a mistake.

Back at the lake, Cato spots the boy from Three and surges out of the water. He angles around the ruined remains of their camp and sprints toward the other tribute. As he nears, he lets out an animal yell and launches himself at Axel.

The boy from Three manages to turn partway around before he's tackled to the ground by the raging tribute from Two. Cato rolls Axel over the rest of the way and punches him in the face. "You piece of meat!" he growls out, striking the boy again. "You hurt Clove!"

Axel struggles underneath the Career, trying to buck him off. His legs kick up futilely trying to dislodge Cato.

Cato ignores him and continues hitting the boy in the face. "I'm going to make you suffer, you piece of dog crap. You're going to hurt and then you're going to die."

Giving up trying to kick Cato off, Axel reaches into one of his pockets with his left hand while the right comes up to protect his face. Cato just bats the hand away and wraps his hands around Axel's neck and starts squeezing. The boy from Three struggles for air, but manages to pull his left hand out of his pocket. In it is a small dagger and he thrusts it into Cato weakly.

Rearing back in pain, Cato releases his hold on Axel. The boy from Three yanks the dagger out and plunges it into Cato's thigh. The Career howls and rolls off of the smaller tribute clutching at the dagger.

Now free, Axel struggles to his feet and starts to run away. He's not running very fast because of his injuries and it looks like he might have sprained an ankle from Cato's initial tackle. As for the Career, he stands up, leaving the dagger in his leg and gets his bearings. He spots the fleeing tribute and lumbers after him.

I find myself torn in who I want to win. I know that it'd be better if Cato kills Axel since that means that there's one less tribute between Prim and winning. But I kind of want Axel to get away. He deserves it since he's managed to take out two Careers and injure the other two.

Axel is almost at the edge of the clearing when he makes his final mistake and glances behind him to see where Cato is. He doesn't see where he's planting his feet and steps down on a triangular stone. His injured ankle gives out and he falls to the ground. Hard. I hear the unmistakable sound of a bone breaking but that's not the worst of it.

Cato catches up to him and bends down. He seizes the boy from Three's head in his hands and twists it violently to the right. The sound of Axel's neck snapping echoes all through the clearing and a cannon goes off.

The Career stands back up straight and looks around to find Clove. She's out of the water and heading toward him. She's got cuts along one side of her body from shrapnel kicked up by the mines but she's not too badly injured.

Cato on the other hand is. The knife in his thigh isn't close to his femoral artery, but it is lodged in deep. The rush of the kill over, the strength in Cato's body seems to leave him and he stumbles away from Axel's body and collapses to the ground.

Clove gives a shout and breaks into a run, carefully skirting the edge of the clearing to avoid any unexploded mines. She reaches his side and drops to her knees. "Cato..."

"It's not bad," he manages to gasp out.

"That's a load of crap," Clove shoots back, her hands checking his vitals. "I'm going to have to take it out and sew you up. I don't know with what though." She looks up and surveys the remains of the supply pile and camp. "Everything's gone."

Cato shakes his head. "Three would have had a stash somewhere."

"You're right. He wouldn't have blown everything up without having a hidey hole somewhere outside the blast zone." She drops a kiss onto his forehead. "That's what I love about you, you have brains as well as brawn."

"And I'm good-looking too," he adds, trying to smile but only managing a grimace.

"And so very modest." Clove gets up. "I don't think you're going to die but you need to stay awake. I'm going to strip Three of anything useful and then move what's left of him away so that they can come get the body."

The boy nods.

"Then, I'm going to look for his stash. It's probably just beyond the treeline somewhere. I hope there's a first-aid kit."

Cato nods again. "Do you have something I can bite on? Some dried meat, maybe?"

Clove shakes her head. "I'm out. I didn't have anything left when we got back to camp and I didn't grab anything before going to get water with you. Sorry."

"It's okay."

The girl walks over to Axel's body and makes quick work of stripping it of anything useful. Even his clothes and shoes are taken. Then she drags the underwear clad corpse over to a copse of trees at the edge of the clearing. She takes her booty along with Axel's abandoned sleeping bag back to where her love is lying and uses them to elevate Cato's leg. After making sure he isn't going bleed out, she starts her search.

I'm brought from the action by Effie standing up and brushing the wrinkles out of her clothes. "My! Now that was exciting!" She pauses, looking at the clock. "And fortuitous."

"How so?" Mr. Mellark adds.

The escort looks at him. "Why because that means that the first interview has opened back up! Poor Striker, though. But good for us!"

"How long until we reach the Capitol?" my mother wants to know.

"A few hours at the most. Enough time to get cleaned up and fed and enough time for me to see if I can make arrangements with Caesar's office to bump us back up. Now, if you'll excuse me I've got so so much to do before we arrive." Effie walks briskly out of the compartment and down the hallway toward the front of the train.

Meanwhile my mother and Mr. Mellark are standing up and turning off the television. I want to protest but all of a sudden I'm starving. A servant arrives to show us to the dining car where the rest of our party is eating. Peeta's brothers Bing and Farl both have heaping plates of food and are gorging themselves on bacon and sausage. Meanwhile Mrs. Mellark has a smaller plate but on it are delicacies that we rarely see in Twelve: fresh citrus, fish eggs on toast, chocolate covered fruit and an assortment of cheeses.

I grab a plate and load up on fruit and bacon making a wide berth around anything fishy or dairy, both sound nauseating. My mother gives me a large cup of tea with honey and milk in it and I accept it gratefully.

After breakfast, I try to return to the viewing room but pause as something catches my eye outside of the window. I cross to it and look out and catch my breath. The Capitol is approaching.

The city glitters and shines against the backdrop of a great mountain lake. I can just make out the spires of the buildings I've seen on television when everything outside goes black. We've entered a tunnel.

Realizing just how close we are, I decide to forgo going back to watch the Games and head back to the dining car where I left my mother. But before I make it five feet a cheerful voice stops me.

"Katniss! Just the person I wanted to see!"

I turn around. "Hello, Effie," I say.

She minces down the hallway and clasps my shoulder, I want to smack it away but manage not to. "I've got such big, big, big news! Big news!"

"Shouldn't you be telling this to everyone?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh my, yes! What a thoughtful girl and so efficient. You're a woman after my own heart!"

"Thanks."

We walk back to the dining car and as soon as we enter Effie raises her hands over her head and claps them together in a rapid staccato. "Everyone, can I have your attention, please?" she calls out then claps her hands again.

The room turns to look at her.

Beaming at us, she says, "I have the most marvelous news! I have managed to score us a coup, a veritable coup!" She's bouncing in on the balls of her feet. "I have managed to get us the first and last interviews with Caesar Flickerman. Isn't that wonderful?"

The room looks at her with varying expressions of confusion on their face. I know from earlier why this is important, but it's clear the rest of the room doesn't. "That's great, Effie," I say, "But how did you manage to pull this off?"

"It's all thanks to you, Katniss!" the escort gushes. "I've talked with Caesar himself and he agrees with me that you should definitely see a doctor first and he wanted me to move the whole contingent's interviews to the end because of this. But since there's no one to take District One's interview time, I suggested we just take that too since we've got so many of you and he agreed!"

"That's all well and good, but when can we go home?" Mrs. Mellark wants to know.

Effie frowns. "Well, don't you want to stay and see Peeta win?"

The woman snorts. "He's not going to win. He's going to sacrifice himself for her! So she can be happy!" She jerks her chin in my direction.

"But the rule change-" Effie protests.

"What good's the rule change when her sister is useless? He's going to get killed trying to protect her and she's going to die weeping over his corpse!"

"Now Muffy-" Mr. Mellark tries to calm her down.

She whirls on her husband. "This is your fault! Letting him be soft, letting him pine after that piece of Seam whore trash!"

My mother's hand flashes out and smacks Mrs. Mellark across the mouth. "I will not have you say such things about my daughter!"

"Like mother like daughter," Mrs. Mellark sneers. "Both a pair of sluts-"

She doesn't get to finish her insult as my mother slaps her again.

Mrs. Mellark lets out a high pitched screech and lunges forward with her hands outstretched to attack my mother. She doesn't get far. Mr. Mellark throws himself between his wife and my mother while his oldest son, Bing, comes up behind her to wrap an arm around the seething woman.

"Muffy, calm down. Violet's just standing up for her children like any good mother would do."

She glares at him, her eyes narrowing. "You've always taken her side, Matz. Even after she rejected you all those years ago, you're still carrying a flame for her." She spits in his face. "Pathetic!"

"Mother..." Bing tries.

Mr. Mellark interrupts him. "I think that you need to calm down, Muffy. It's one thing to lash out in private, in public I'm going to have to put my foot down."

"Put your foot down? That's rich coming from you!"

"Still, I'm going to have to do it. You can yell at me all you want when we get home. But while we're in the Capitol, you're going to behave yourself. You're going to talk about our youngest son with some affection and you're going to keep our private life private." His voice is hard and he shakes her slightly to punctuate his seriousness.

She glares at him for one long moment, trying to get him to stand down, but he doesn't. Finally she gives a crisp nod. "Fine! However I have a demand of my own. I do not want to have anything to do with them!" She glares at my mother and then me with hate clear in her eyes.

"That's fine with me," my mother crosses over to me to put her arm around me.

"Oh my," Effie breathes. "What drama! It's like a television show! I'll have to make a few changes to the itinerary to accommodate this arrangement but it's doable."

Behind her, the light returns outside the windows and I feel the train begin to slow. We've arrived in the Capitol. Outside the train, I can hear crowds cheering and the sound of the Hunger Games being broadcast on screens all over the city.

Farl sits up in his chair and looks out the window. "Whoa... there's so many of them..." he breathes. Bing, Mrs. Mellark, and Mr. Mellark all go to the window to get a glimpse of the Capitol.

Effie claps her hands. "Now that this is all settled; smiles on! Chins up! Let's get this show on the road!"

* * *

**AN:**

Special thanks to my beta reader for this chapter: RoseFyre.

I've always wondered why the District Three Male Tribute teamed up with the Careers. Sure he could booby trap the supplies and keep them safe, but why did he stick around when they left camp or why didn't the Careers kill him. This chapter was my answer. I always felt that the District Three Male Tribute had a HUGE advantage and should have used it to take out most if not all of the Careers. Yes, he had his neck snapped as before, but this time he's managed to get a few licks in and thin the field. As a side note, I'm going to miss Glimmer. She's really grown on me as I've been writing this. She was fun to write and she added some much needed common sense to the Career Pack.

Now we get to the Capitol. From the books, we know that it is someplace in the Rocky Mountains and from the movie we can see it is situated on a large lake. We also know from Mockingjay that the Capitol is COMPLETELY surrounded by mountains. It's that last fact that takes Denver or any of the other major cities that have been proposed as locations for the Capitol right out. Denver for all that it is called the mile-high city, is built on the plains. Seriously, I know, I grew up there. There are mountains to the west, but to the south, north and east it's flat. The same is true with Boulder, Colorado Springs, and Cheyenne. Salt Lake City has mountains to the east and north but not to the south or west. I also have a degree in natural disasters (no, really I do) and no matter what kind of cataclysm took place to raise sea levels there is no way that we can get mountains to the east of Denver by any of the known mountain building events.

So based on that, I'm writing that the Capitol is near the Great Divide and near the Eisenhower tunnel. The biggest city in that area on a lake is Dillon, Colorado. Google it. That's where I'm placing the Capitol. It's also an area I know fairly well. My family used to go camping and hiking up there and skiing in the nearby Breckenridge, Keystone, and Vail areas.

For those of you who have a twitter account, I post updates about how chapter progress is going and other things to my twitter. The link is on my profile.

**Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.**  
Glimmer - District One - Blown up by Axel with mines  
Marvel - District One - Blown up by Axel with mines  
Axel - District Three - Neck snapped by Cato

A big thank you goes out to my reviewers for Last Chapter - oshb123, RoseFyre, Katara1439, mum2shane, Everlark Lover, TitanNegro, ShortySC22, Random Thought Girl, lovegirl45, Eagle-eyes.

Up Next: Katniss' doctor's visit and an unexpected meeting.

Please Review!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

There are two limousines waiting at the platform for us when we get off. Effie herds the Mellarks and my mother toward one while motioning for me to go in the other.

My mother shakes her head and tries to join me. "I'm staying with my daughter," she states adamantly. There's a bit of a panicked look in her eyes, like she's afraid to let me out of her sight.

Effie huffs and moves to block my mother's path. "Katniss will be fine. You'll see Katniss after her appointment. We need to get you to the Training Center and the interviews. Besides, I've made arrangements for her to be well taken care of." She makes a motion with one arm.

I glance over at the limousine that Effie had indicated and note that unlike the one the Mellarks are getting into, mine has a pair of Peacekeepers waiting beside it. Now my heart begins to race and I fight the instinct to run away. I know that would be the worst possible idea and so I stop myself from bolting but I'm still nervous.

One of the Peacekeepers notices me and gives me a small smile and bends down to hold the limo door open. I steel myself and try to walk with confidence to the waiting vehicle. Getting inside, I sink down into the soft upholstery monogrammed with the symbol of Panem. The door shuts behind me and I hear the two Peacekeepers get in the front of the vehicle.

Thankful that they didn't join me, I survey my surroundings. The back of the limousine is well apportioned with four soft couches. At the end of each couch is a container of dark, polished wood. I open the one closest to me and find that it holds a few carafes of brightly colored liquid and several small tumblers. Checking the other boxes reveals more of the same. I decide against trying anything since I don't know what any of the liquids are and with my luck they'd be poisoned.

The windows of the limousine are tinted but I can still see out of them. I spend the rest of the drive watching the Capitol go by, trying to figure out where I am and where we are going based on what little I know of Capitol geography. They deliberately don't teach geography in school because the Capitol doesn't want the districts to be able to rise up again. What we do know is gleaned from various newscasts and oral history. Like I know that District Twelve is the district that is closest to the ruined District Thirteen and the district is someplace to the northeast of Twelve. But how far and what obstacles are between Twelve and Thirteen I don't know. No one I know does.

As we drive, I become aware of just how maze-like the Capitol is laid out. The streets we cross often dead end into large cul-de-sacs and open air markets or parks. The limo itself makes several turns and if I didn't have a strong sense of direction from hunting most of my life, I would be completely turned around. As it is, I'm still not quite sure where we are when we finally stop.

The same Peacekeeper as before opens the door for me and I get out. I'm standing in front of a fairly nondescript concrete building. I don't have a lot of time to take stock before a green clad woman comes up to me and ushers me inside.

When we enter, I realize that we're in some kind of medical center. The woman leads me first to a bathroom where she instructs me to pee into a cup. I give her a look like she's insane, but do what she asks. When I'm done, she leads me into a small room with lots of machines and has me get dressed in a loose smock. She then has another woman dressed in green come in to take several vials of my blood. I look away while she does this and notice that there's a television on in the room showing the Games.

There's no volume, but there is some kind of subtitle although the words on the screen aren't matching up to what the person is saying. The subtitling is likely being done in real time, then.

On the screen is one of the morning commentators performing an exit interview with Striker Diamante, Glimmer's father and mentor. The commentator is clearly trying to be upbeat and praise Striker for coaching his daughter as far as he did but I can see the underlying emotions on the older man's face. He clearly doesn't want to be there and with every question, every inane comment from the interviewer I can see him getting more and more distraught.

Finally the interviewer asks a question that's even callous by Capitol standards. "So what did you feel when you saw your daughter vaporized on television?" the caption reads.

Striker's face twitches and I can see his jaw clench. For several seconds he doesn't say anything and the reporter repeats her question. The victor from One gives the woman a glare that spells pain and says, "You want to know what I felt? I'll show you what I felt!" He then stands up and punches the woman in the chest, hard.

The woman falls backwards out of her chair and three Peacekeepers run up onto the stage. I can see Striker being detained when the feed abruptly changes to the Games themselves. There isn't much going on, only Thresh and Rue are in motion and they're just walking back toward the alliance campsite. Clearly, they had the exit interviews planned for before the family and friends interviews with Caesar Flickerman and because of Striker's outburst they're having to show slow time in the Games to cover.

I can't blame Striker for lashing out like he did. The reporter was callous and cruel and completely oblivious to his pain. Much like the Capitol is with the districts, I think to myself grimly.

The door opens to the room I'm in and another woman comes in, this one wearing a white coat. She instructs me to lay back and pokes and prods my abdomen. She asks me a few questions: When was my last period? Do I know when I conceived? How much do I eat? What color is my pee? Have I had any spotting? When was the last time I saw a doctor? Things like that. She makes little clucking sounds of disapproval at my answers. I'm not sure what kinds of answers she is looking for, but clearly the ones I give aren't it.

The rest of the exam is very uncomfortable and invasive and I find myself wishing that my mother had come with me. The doctor tries to be soothing, explaining what she is doing and why, but I'm still very uncomfortable and embarrassed with the whole thing.

After several minutes both she and the other nurses leave to make arrangements for me to have some other kinds of tests. I'm not really sure what kinds but the doctor insists they are necessary. I can't understand why they'd be necessary, people have been having babies long before these tests were invented and we certainly don't have such medicine in District Twelve. We barely have power in District Twelve.

I get dressed and turn my attention back to the Games, wondering how to turn up the volume on the television in the room. I don't see any buttons or dials on the screen and it's too high up for me to reach anyway, so I resign myself to watching them with subtitles.

I don't really need the sound in any case since I can figure out what is happening without it. Rue and Thresh are getting closer to the cave where Rani, Peeta, and Prim are. I can see without the subtitle telling me that Rue is whistling her four note theme to announce that she's returning.

The camera cuts to Prim and her reaction to hearing the tune. She turns around and calls to Peeta and Rani excitedly. The older two tributes emerge from the cave a little warily. Rani seems to be nervous and keeps her hands in her pockets, while Peeta is holding a knife in his right hand.

Rue and Thresh emerge from the brush on the far side of the stream and the wariness that both of the older tributes expressed eases greatly but not entirely. This is still the Hunger Games and no alliance has lasted until the end of the Games unbroken.

The door opens and I look away from the screen to get a shock at who comes through.

It's Haymitch Abernathy.

"Morning, sweetheart, bet you weren't expecting me," he greets me with a cocky grin on his face.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss. "Aren't you supposed to be back at the Training Center mentoring my sister or whatever it is that you do?"

"Finn and Mags are keeping an eye on them for me," he answers. "I needed to talk to you about your interview."

"What about it?" I ask warily, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Now, see, that's wrong."

"What's wrong?"

"Your tone of voice," he says, pulling out a metal flask and lifting it to his lips. "It's coming across hostile and sullen. Not good for winning Capitol crowds."

My eyes narrow at his words. "And I suppose you know what wins Capitol crowds."

"I'm here, ain't I?"

"I'm sure it's a fluke," I snort derisively.

He shakes his head. "You're missing the point. I'm here, now, with you. I've finally got a set of tributes that stands a chance and it takes every bit of pull and prodding me and a the other mentors got to have them make the rule change and I ain't gonna have you botch it up 'cause you're feeling ornery. They got to like you, Katniss. They have to know why Prim, who they all love despite her unwillingness to kill, sacrificed herself for you. They have to know why Peeta, who is about the strongest tribute in the Games this year, is willing to lay down his life so your sister can come home to you. Prim and Peeta have made you desirable, sweetheart, and the Capitol cash cows need to know that by backing the two from Twelve that they're going to get what they want."

"And what do they want?" I ask warily.

"A fairy tale ending."

I'm confused as to what he means and I know it shows on my face.

"They want to know that if Peeta and Prim come out of the Arena that you three are all going to live happily ever after."

I'm still confused. Why wouldn't we be happy? If Prim makes it out, she'd be a Victor and we'd be set up in one of the houses in the Victor's Village. And more importantly, we wouldn't have to worry about food ever again. But I don't think that it's what the Capitol's looking for and I know it's not what Haymitch is looking for. "What do you want me to do?" I ask bluntly.

"I don't know, try to pretend you feel something for the boy. That he means something to you, that you want him to live."

"I don't want him to die," I say. "Isn't that enough?"

"Not for the Capitol. They want the love story and if that means you have to lie, then you're going to do it, sweetheart."

I frown. I'm not sure I can feign affection for someone I barely know. "I can try," I offer after several moments.

Haymitch shrugs. "I suppose that's the best I can ask for. That brings me to the other reason I wanted to talk to you. I need to let the kids know their families are here without tipping off the Capitol that's what I'm doing."

"Why?"

"So that Peeta doesn't do or say something stupid," Haymitch says bluntly. "Your boy's got a moral streak a mile wide and it's going to get him into trouble. He's already being accused of stirring up trouble." There's something in the man's voice that sounds like pride. "We want him to make it home safe and sound, not end up dead in the Arena because he pissed off the wrong people. Like that girl from Seven did."

The memory of Tacoma's death surfaces and I nod numbly. No, I don't want to watch Peeta be eaten alive by mutts or killed by some other Gamemaker contrivance. But what to send that won't raise suspicion? That's the question. I think about it for several moments. A loaf of partially burnt bread? No. I'm likely going to have to tell the story during my interview about how Peeta saved my life, so that's out. Sending a loaf of that same bread isn't obvious enough. It's a common bread and Peeta might not remember the exact loaves he gave me and I know that Prim probably won't get the significance either. Notes are out, Haymitch tells me, all gifts are packaged up by people other than the mentors to make sure that nothing game-breaking is slipped in.

Then it hits me. I look up at Haymitch who is waiting for me to say something. "Cookies."

"Come again?"

"Cookies." I repeat. "Iced sugar cookies with flowers painted on them."

A light gleams in Haymitch's grey eyes. "Any specific kind of flower?"

"Katniss. Primrose. Violet." I list out firmly.

"Any particular reason these would stand out?" he asks.

"The baker slipped me a package with three cookies in it with those flowers painted on them as a gift for Reaping Day. Prim saw hers but didn't get a chance to eat it. I think Peeta might have been the one who painted the flowers on those cookies."

He nods. "Effie mentioned the boy was an artist."

"She did? When?"

"While you were on the train," he answers. "Who do you think she was calling when she was making arrangements? President Snow?"

I honestly hadn't thought about it, but it makes sense. She would be coordinating with Haymitch to make sure that everything was working according to plan.

"Anything else?" I ask him, trying to keep my annoyance out of my tone.

Apparently I don't succeed since he gives me a little smirk and says, "Not right now, darlin', but if I think of something you'll be the first person I ask. Just remember what I said, the Capitol wants the fairytale and if you want your sister to come home you need to give them the fairytale." He slips out before I can retort.

I glare at the closed door for several minutes. I don't want to give the Capitol the fairytale. I don't want to give them anything. They don't deserve it. But to get Prim home, I'm going to have to sacrifice something. I lift my hand up to my mouth and start to gnaw on my thumbnail as I try to think of how I am going to play this. How am I going to force feelings that I don't have for a guy I barely know? I don't know. And what's worse, nothing is coming to me.

I don't get very long to think either since the door opens again and the doctor returns, this time with a technician wheeling some kind of device. They don't make me get undressed again, for which I am profoundly grateful, but they do make me lift my shirt and unbutton my pants.

Using a pen-like instrument, the technician traces a path across my abdomen while the machine displays a readout that I can't figure out and looks like just a bunch of blobs and other formless things to me. They seem to mean something to the technician though, because every so often the tech will pause and hit a few buttons. All the while, the doctor makes little notes, frowning more and more after each passing minute.

Finally they finish and the technician leaves the room. The doctor leans against the counter and fixes me with a stern glare. "You're a very, very lucky lady," she says without any preamble.

I raise an eyebrow but refrain from commenting.

"You're severely underweight and that is affecting fetal growth and development," she lectures. "At twenty two weeks, both you and your baby should weigh more. You're lucky you haven't had further complications." Her tone doesn't leave any doubt what those complications might be. "I've drawn up a list of foods I want you to eat and ones I want you to avoid. I've also taken the liberty of sending them over to Ms. Trinket to relay to the Training Center's household staff."

I frown at this. Great, now Effie's going to start mothering me as well.

The doctor pulls out a large bottle of pills from the cabinet behind her and hands it to me. "These are pre-natal vitamins that are of an extra high dosage. You'll need to take one of these a day for the rest of your pregnancy or longer if you're planning on breastfeeding." Her tone implies her disdain.

I'll admit, I haven't really given it much thought. I suppose I'll breastfeed, you don't really have any other options in District Twelve, but the whole idea is so foreign to me. Probably because I've never had much in the way of breasts.

Continuing her lecture, the woman takes a few sheets of paper off of her clipboard and holds them out to me. "These are the exercises I want you to do from now on. You'll also need to put on at least twenty pounds between now and the end of your pregnancy. It's very important to your child's future. Really, you should know better. Not eating enough, hmph! So backward. It's better to gain the weight now and lose it later than keep it off. No wonder your district does so poorly in the Games."

My hands are shaking uncontrollably in rage at the woman's statements. She thinks that the hunger that District Twelve faces is for looks and that we want to be as thin and malnourished as we are. How incredibly naive and arrogant! In District Twelve, there're so few people that are overweight and most of those who are come from the merchant class. In the Seam, getting fat is like growing old - it doesn't happen. I take the exercise instructions, mentally vowing to incinerate them as fast as possible. I consider throwing out the vitamins while I'm at it, but decide that even if I don't take them, my mother might have a use for them.

There's a knock at the door and the first nurse enters. My limousine is waiting for me out front, am I done? Yeah, I'm done. I'm done with this whole place. I get up off the exam table and straighten my clothes. I avoid looking at the doctor as much as possible. That woman is one more thing for me to hate about the Capitol. Just one of many.

The nurse escorts me back out to the limousine. The same Peacekeepers as before are there waiting for me. I wonder if they stayed for the entirety of my appointment or if they went someplace else for the couple of hours I was inside.

I get my answer when inside the back of the limousine sits a man who is the least Capitol-like Capitol citizen I've ever seen. His close cropped hair isn't dyed or elaborately styled and he isn't sporting stylized tattoos or garish makeup like so many people here do regardless of station or profession. His clothes are even understated and elegant. The only thing that marks him as being from the Capitol is a small line of gold eyeliner around his eyes.

He half sits up as I climb in the back and extends a hand to me. "You must be Katniss," he says warmly. "Prim has told me all about you. She's very enamored of you, you know."

I take his hand. "Um... Thanks. I care a lot about her too."

"I can tell. My name is Cinna and my partner, Portia, and I are the stylists for District Twelve."

I think back to the amazing opening parade outfits that made Prim and Peeta actually stand out as well as the interview outfits and give the man a small smile. "Thank you for making her memorable," I say.

Cinna smiles back at me. "It was my pleasure. Your sister is very easy to work with."

"I'm nothing like my sister," I warn.

"I can see that. That's why I wanted to take this time and get to know you a bit before all of the hustle and the bustle of the family interviews take place. I want to know you so I can make you both look good and feel good."

Glancing down at my stomach, I frown. "I'm not sure that's possible." It's not just the pregnancy or my lack of curves I'm worried about. It's everything. Being here in the Capitol, I feel trapped, like a prisoner, and I don't think a pretty dress is going to change that.

Cinna regards me seriously for several moments. "I may not be able to soothe your nerves or magically transport you back home, but at least I can try to make things better."

I'm a little surprised at how astute he is. "Thanks," I say lamely. He makes me uncomfortable, not because I hate him. Because I actually could see myself liking him. He feels more real than any other Capitol citizen I've met.

"You don't need to feel nervous around me, Katniss. I'm on your and Prim's side."

What was he? A mind reader?

"I'm not a mind reader, Katniss. You're just very expressive."

I frown. "That's not good."

"I find it quite adorable, personally. I'm sure the rest of the Capitol will too."

I glance down at my fingers. "It's dangerous," I whisper.

Cinna reaches forward, placing his fingers under my chin. He tilts my head up and looks me straight in the eye. "Because you don't love Peeta," he says bluntly.

My eyes dart around wildly looking for listening devices. I shake my head, not willing to say the words aloud.

"Do you like him?" he asks.

"I owe him," I answer.

"That's not what I asked." He pulls back his hand, allowing me to look away.

I shrug my shoulders. "It's complicated."

Cinna chuckles and shakes his head. "When is life anything but complicated? Did you know him well from before the Games?"

"No," I answer. "That's part of what makes it complicated. He's in there telling everyone just how much he loves me. How he'll die just so my sister can come home again. And to me he's just the boy with the bread."

"The boy with the bread?"

"It's what I call him in my mind. Before I knew his name, it's how I referred to him."

"Because he's the son of a baker?"

I shake my head again. "It's because he saved my life when I was eleven." I don't elaborate.

Cinna seems to accept that. "I can see how that would make things complicated. Can I offer you a little bit of advice?"

"Why not, everyone else has today. You've at least asked my permission first."

He smiles. "Be yourself."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Haymitch..." I trail off when Cinna holds up one hand to stop me.

"Haymitch is Haymitch," he tells me. "He's frustrated because from his point of view lying is easy and if you can save a life with a deception you do it. I imagine you and he rubbed each other the wrong way."

I nod.

"I thought so. That's because you're both alike in a lot of ways."

I bristle at the thought. But I realize that Cinna has a point. Haymitch and I, we are alike. We're both stubborn and self-reliant and from the Seam. I can't imagine what he goes through every year mentoring kids who die. If it were me and I finally got a tribute I thought could make it, I'd do my best to save that one. So I'd have one less dead kid dancing through my nightmares. I can understand why he'd be angry if that tribute was going to sacrifice themselves for a tribute that everyone would view as weak. I can understand it. It doesn't mean I like it.

Looking up at Cinna, I say, "I'm not sure I can be myself in front of an audience. I'm likely to use the wrong tone or say the wrong thing or mess up some other way."

"Are you being yourself right now?" he asks me, his eyes intent.

"Yeah."

"Then I don't think you have anything to worry about. Answer the questions honestly."

"But what if they ask me about Peeta?"

"They're going to ask you about him, there is no avoiding their questions about him. And when they do ask, you're going to tell them about the boy with the bread who saved your life. The boy who's been in love with you forever. The boy who kissed you in the Justice Building. The boy who is an amazing artist. The boy who would do anything to protect the people he cares about to the point of self-sacrifice." He pauses and regards me seriously. "You don't have to talk about your feelings for him, the tone you take when telling those stories will be enough. The audience will figure it out."

"But what if I freeze?" Interviewees and tributes alike have done that in years past. It's never worked out well.

"Pretend that you're talking to a friend from home," the stylist suggests.

I shake my head. "I don't know. This isn't the kind of thing that I'd talk about with them." Gale already knows and I wouldn't feel comfortable talking to him about Peeta. Not with him already so overprotective and possessive. Madge would be better, but no matter how good of friends we have become there's still the unassailable fact that she's the Mayor's daughter and I'm a girl from the Seam.

"Do you think you could tell me these things?" he asks gently.

I think about it for a few moments. Could I talk with Cinna about Peeta? Probably. He's been a good listener so far and he doesn't seem to have the same judgmental attitude of everyone else I've encountered so far here in the Capitol and that includes Haymitch. "I think I could," I answer finally.

"Then that solves that problem," he replies. "I'll be in the audience right in full view of the stage. If you get nervous, all you need to do is find me and I'll be there. Just pretend it's just you and me in the room and you'll do fine."

"But what if-"

He cuts me off. "No more what ifs, Katniss. You'll be brilliant." He pauses and scoots down the seat to the door. "Besides, we're here."

* * *

**AN:**

Beta read by RoseFyre

This is not my favorite chapter ever. It's transitory and is set up for a lot more things to come. So it needed to happen, but I'm still not happy with it. I like Cinna as a character, but writing him... Ugh! Haymitch is fun and I like him. But his scene here was like pulling teeth.

I've actually patterned the reporters after several reporters I've seen in real life. They ask questions that make you go, "Really, are you that insensitive?" I've also tried to show some of the disparity between the Capitol and the Districts.

I'm going to be doing CampNanoWriMo in July to try to finish this up. Right now it looks like it's going to be at least 10 more chapters for this part. Considering that my chapters lately have been averaging about 5,000 words per, that seems to be a good plan. If I finish the story early, I am hoping to work on a few one shots that are in the same universe before starting on the Second long story as a part of NanoWriMo in November. I'm not going to be publishing as frequently as I did during Nano last year. One reason, and the biggest one, is that going back and revising is a pain when you've published. This way I can do more revisions where I have a better idea where I am going and also where I've been. I might be able to put out two chapters during the event itself. It depends on how well I do. There will be no more chapters between then and now, I'm not going to have a lot of time to write between now and when Camp Nano starts. Real life, it's a bitch.

Reviews are loved, welcomed and fed cookies. No wait, that's reviewers. Reviews are cherished. Thank you to the reviewers of last chapter: All of the Guests, ForFutureReference, Everlark Lover, HealthHungerGamesObsession101, Eagle-Eyes, Katara1439, Random Thought Girl, RoseFyre, Silverbelle, ShortySC22! Have a cookie!

Thanks for reading!


	20. Chapter Twenty

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

Cinna helps me out of the limousine, waving away the Peacekeeper that steps forward. I'm grateful. Cinna, at least, is someone I think I can trust. We walk together into the Training Center and I try to pretend that the Peacekeepers flanking and trailing us aren't there. The white uniformed soldiers' presence does little to soothe my suspicion that we tribute families are here more as hostages than as guests.

As if he senses my uneasiness, which considering his mind reading powers earlier he probably does, Cinna leans over and whispers, "Just ignore them, Katniss, they're only following orders."

In that instant, I understand that I shouldn't be worried about the white uniformed people around me, I should be worried about who gave them the orders and the order for us to come to the Capitol, President Coriolanus Snow. I force myself not to shiver at the realization that things are bad enough that the President has taken a personal interest in this. I have to focus. I need to do what I can to save Peeta and Prim.

"Where are we going?" I ask. I'm trying to make conversation. To try not to show my fears and suspicions.

Cinna gives my shoulder a quick pat. He understands. "We're going to go the Twelve tribute quarters. I thought you'd like some lunch and we can watch the interviews while we eat."

"Don't I need to get ready?"

The stylist shakes his head. "Not yet," he answers. "Portia and I decided that we weren't going to go for too elaborate of costuming for you. We want you to be approachable not aloof. Too many bells and whistles would distract from the message we want to send."

"What is that message?" I ask.

He glances back over his shoulder at our shadows. "I'll tell you upstairs."

I get the message.

We get onto the elevator and thankfully the Peacekeepers don't follow us. Cinna presses the button for twelve. The walls of the elevator are glass on one side and as we rise above the first floor the windows show an amazing view of the Capitol and the mountains beyond. Cinna stands next to me but doesn't try to engage in any conversation for the duration of the ride. I'm grateful. I'm a little surprised how lovely the city is. The Capitol itself isn't ugly. It's just the ideas behind it.

We reach the twelfth floor and step out into a large open room. To my left is a hallway leading to a series of doors. Cinna tells me that they lead to the tribute and mentor quarters and at the end of the hallway is a set of stairs that leads up to the roof. To my right is a large sitting room with a projection screen and lots of seating. This is where we'll be watching the Games and interviews while we are here, I assume. Straight ahead is the dining room on a raised platform. Off of the dining room is a balcony with several chairs and a table.

Cinna motions for me to follow him out to the balcony. I comply and try not to gasp at how high up we are. I'm thankful that my years of climbing trees mean I don't have a fear of heights. I peer over the edge to get a better look. The people congregated in the streets below look so small, like brightly colored beetles.

"Aren't they afraid one of the tributes will try to jump?" I ask, knowing Cinna is behind me.

"No," he answers, "there's a force field surrounding the balconies and roof. Anyone who tries to jump or even throw anything over the edge will get a nasty jolt." He picks up a grape from the food laid out on the table next to me and tosses it over the edge. There's an angry buzzing and the grape comes flying back at us. Cinna catches it and holds it out to me. I take it and try to drop it. The fruit doesn't fall very far before almost bouncing back up to us.

"I suppose that's good to know," I say, regarding the grape. I resist the urge to try to throw it with all my might. Instead, I set it down beside the plate holding the rest of the grapes. I don't relish being pelted by the fruit on its return trip.

"Why don't we eat?" Cinna suggests. He checks his watch. "We've got about twenty minutes before the first interviews. We can discuss what message we want to send with your interview."

I suppress a grimace. "You want me to pretend to be in love with Peeta." It isn't a question.

Cinna doesn't reply immediately, instead picking up a plate and filling it. He spoons some yellow rice with various nuts in it on first. Then ladles out a deep brown stew over the top of it. Along the edge of the plate, he places florets of broccoli and asparagus tips. Then he hands it to me and prepares his own plate. "I know you said you're not in love with Peeta," he starts, turning to look at me.

I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks, and I nod my head confirming that. No, I'm not in love with him. I'm embarrassed by it. I feel like I should feel something for him, but all I can manage is gratitude and confusion. Peeta confuses me. How can he love me? He doesn't even know me!

"That makes things a little more complicated," Cinna says, turning back to his food. He motions for me to sit down at the little table on one end and he takes a seat across from me. "Do you like him at all?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Like I said on the trip here, I owe him." Cinna frowns at me and I struggle to elaborate. "Maybe if things had been different, if there hadn't been the Games. If things weren't so bad in District Twelve. Maybe then we could be friends." I look down at my food and take a few bites. It's delicious, like all of the Capitol food, but I'm not really tasting it. The words sound so callous, emotionless. I know that Cinna's trying to help but I can't help but be annoyed that everyone's focusing on Peeta. Prim's the one who matters the most to me. Prim's the one I'm here for. Getting Peeta home would be nice, but not if the cost is losing Prim. Thinking about my sister, a picture pops into my head of her and Peeta laughing together. "Prim already likes him. That's a start. She's a pretty good judge of character."

Cinna nods. "They became very close during their time here," he confirms. "Peeta told her stories to help her sleep at night. Said he wasn't much of a singer, but he could give her that much."

A wave of gratitude washes over me. "He sounds like a good person."

"He is a good person, Katniss," Cinna says intently. "He deserves to make it out of the Arena alive."

"So does Prim!"

He holds up a hand. "I'm not saying she doesn't. But we want to try to get both of them to come home. Right now the Capitol is entranced with the Star-Crossed Lovers of District Two. We need to do something to get the attention of the sponsors away from Cato and Clove and onto Peeta and Prim and you're the obvious link between them," he explains.

"I know. Peeta promised me he'd bring her home in the Justice Building."

"So you saw him."

I struggle not to blush as I remember the brief moment when he kissed me. "I saw him."

"What happened?" he asks.

I feel my cheeks heat up and I know that I must be blushing furiously. "He asked if he could give me a hug, and I said yes. He held me for a little while and then we talked. I gave him a pin."

Cinna interrupts me, his eyes intent. "The mockingjay pin?"

I nod. "Madge, my friend the Mayor's daughter, gave it to me when my name was called. I gave it to him. It seemed like the right thing to do. He didn't have a district token and..." I trail off when I realize I'm starting to ramble. I try to cover my nervousness by eating more food. It's a lamb stew I realize, with some kind of stewed fruit in it. It's tasty and I'm happy to have a meat that's a little gamier than most of the Capitol meats I've had so far.

"Is that all that happened? Did Peeta make up the part about the kiss?" Cinna asks me gently.

I want to deny it but that wouldn't be fair. And it wouldn't be true. For all I know, the room in the Justice Building is bugged. In fact, I would be surprised if the rooms aren't bugged. "No, he kissed me."

"Ah," he says as if that explains everything. He takes a bite of his food and chews slowly. Swallowing the mouthful, he asks, "Do you think you can help us get sponsors?"

Can I do that? I think about it. Yes, I can. I'm not comfortable with pretending to have this great romance with Peeta, but if it will save Prim's life, I'll do it. I owe her for saving mine and my baby's lives.

I raise my eyes and meet Cinna's green-gold ones and say, "Yes."

"Thank you, Katniss." His voice is soft but full of emotion.

We finish the rest of our meal and talk about less stressful things. Cinna explains that appearance wise they want me to look young, innocent and desirable.

I don't even try to stifle my snort. "Innocent? Me?" I motion to my swelling belly. "I'm not innocent."

Cinna chuckles. "I said innocent. I didn't mean virginal. Innocence can mean a lot things but it's something pure and something worth protecting."

"Like Prim?"

"Like Prim," he agrees. "She's innocent and the Capitol loves her for it. However, she's young and too much of an underdog for them to take a chance on. We have to make them want to take a chance on her. Peeta's laid a lot of the groundwork already. You probably won't have to say much, just enough for the Capitol to make assumptions on their own."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm certain Caesar's going to ask you about the first time that you met."

"Probably in school," I answer. "District Twelve is pretty small and we all know each other."

"So you grew up together?"

I shake my head. "Peeta's a merchant, I'm from the Seam."

"Ah, so explain it to me. Why does that make a difference?"

I try my best to explain the social differences between Peeta and me. Like he likely never had to take out tesserae or go without food for days in a row. How his house likely had more electricity, heat, water than mine. How the merchants are blond, blue-eyed and fair, and the people from the Seam are black haired, grey-eyed, and olive skinned.

Cinna stops me partway through my explanation. "Your mother was a merchant, wasn't she?"

"Yes. She left that life behind when she married my father. She was the only daughter of the apothecary in town but when she declared that she was going to marry my father, her parents disowned her."

"Because he was from the Seam?"

I nod. My parents marriage was a big scandal back in the day. I never knew my grandparents on my mother's side even though they'd only died about six years ago. A nasty coughing disease swept through Twelve that winter and a lot of people died. Mostly the elderly and the coal miners whose lungs were already damaged from the mines. I only remember this because the family that moved in to take over the business came by with a few old pictures and scrapbooks for my mother. Nothing of any real value.

Sitting back in his chair, the stylist regards me with an odd expression on his face. "You might want to bring that up in the interview," he says. When I start to protest he stalls me by holding up a hand. "You and Peeta. It's the classic tragic love story. Wealthy young man falls for poverty stricken young woman against the wishes of his family. The Capitol will eat it up."

"If you say so."

"No, it's good. But we should finish up. I've requested that dessert be brought to us in the sitting room so we can watch the first few interviews."

I finish what's left on my plate and snag a roll. It's got cheese baked into it, but it isn't nearly as good as Mr. Mellark's rolls. Cinna smiles at me indulgently and picks up the basket of rolls and puts it under his arm.

We both get up and walk to the other room. "Don't you need to go help?" I ask.

"I only had your mother to costume and she didn't take long. We're going for simple, but elegant, looks."

"No fire?"

"I didn't say that," he answers with a smile.

He picks up the remote and turns on the TV. It's not quite time for the interviews and they're focusing on Cato and Clove. I actually am interested to see how they are doing. The last I saw them was several hours ago, before breakfast, and Cato was not doing well. From what I can see, Clove has managed to remove the knife and has bandaged Cato's leg. A large green backpack is shoved under his leg, the stash of supplies that Axel scrounged before blowing up the supply pile. There's also a parachute next to her. I'm guessing there wasn't a sewing kit in the boy from Three's stuff, it's not something immediately obvious to survival like food or water or a weapon.

Clove is looking around nervously. The supply pile is still smoking behind them and she's watching the edges of the woods warily. "We need to move soon, Cato."

The blond haired boy grimaces. "I know. I'm not sure how fast I'll be able to go. My leg hurts really bad."

"Badly," she corrects. "Do you want me to cut you a staff?"

Cato tries to stand and doesn't get very far. Every time he tries to put weight on his injured leg he winces and pulls it back up. He looks up at Clove and says, "I think that might be a good idea. I'm going to need your help to stand."

She looks over at the tree line. They are about twenty feet from the closest copse of trees. "Do you think you could crawl over to the trees? You can use them as hand holds to pull yourself up."

He gauges the distance and nods. "I can try." He props himself up on his behind and using his one good leg starts pulling himself backwards towards the woods. For a moment, I'm confused about why he's doing it this way. Wouldn't it be easier to crawl on his stomach? Then I remember where his injury is, on the front inside of his leg. By crawling on his stomach he could aggravate it or cause his stitches to tear, assuming there are stitches. I still don't know what they got in the parachute. Clove helps where she can, pulling his torso along, but as they get closer to the tree line she stops and starts scanning the woods carefully for signs of any approaching tributes. There aren't any, the Capitol would show any tributes hiding in ambush in a corner inset on the screen or the commentator, a young man with multi-colored feathered eyebrows and a glittering beauty mark, would be telling us what the tributes don't know. But Clove doesn't get the commentary and so she's playing it safe. Smart.

They reach the edge of the woods and Cato uses two trees to hoist himself up. When he's fully erect, Clove hands him his short sword, it must have survived the blast in camp, and moves off to a stand of birch trees. She picks a likely sapling and starts hacking at it with her knife. It's slow going and strenuous work.

The commentator breaks in to let the viewers know that the interviews will be starting in five minutes. Enough time for me to use the bathroom.

I ask where the closest one is and Cinna tells me that the bathrooms are all ensuite. Not that I know what that means. He motions for one of the white clad servants standing unobtrusively along the wall to show me. I follow the young man to one of the rooms down the hall and he shows me where the room is.

"Is this my room?" I ask the young man.

He nods.

The room is as large as my home back in the Seam. In addition to the bathroom, there's a closet where you can dial for various clothes. A machine you can speak into and food appears and several other machines, remotes and gadgets that I can't decipher and don't have time to deal with right now.

I take care of my business and rejoin Cinna in the sitting room to find dessert and tea waiting for us. There's several kinds of fresh fruit and a light airy cake with whipped cream frosting. I help myself to some mixed berries and a generous slice of cake and take my seat.

Caesar Flickerman's grand interview stage splashes up on the screen. The man himself dressed in a sparkling blue suit and matching blue hair bounds up onto the stage and greets the crowd.

"Good afternoon everyone! I am so glad you're able to join us today. I have an extra special treat for you today. Yes, I do! From the mind of our great President Snow, we are going to be trying something a little different this year. I am going to be interviewing our top contestants' families right here on this very stage. What do you think about that?"

The crowd cheers and I can hear the crowd out in the square behind me echoing the studio audience. I wonder how Prim felt knowing that the Capitol was cheering for her death. I know that if I were in her shoes, I would be angry and probably more than that.

On the screen, Caesar calms the audience down. "What a wonderful reaction! Why I think I could feel the floor shaking from the roar. So why don't we get right down to it? Our first interviewee, all the way from District Twelve, the mother of our littlest tribute Primrose Everdeen, please give a warm Capitol welcome to Violet Everdeen!"

My mother walks up onto the stage and I start in surprise. Cinna and his team have pulled off a miracle. Somehow in the space of a few hours he's managed to transform her from the careworn woman that I know to something beautiful. She's wearing a flowing red dress with a black flame-patterned lace overlay. She smiles and waves to the crowd before taking a seat across from Caesar.

The suave host reaches out and clasps my mother's hand. "My dear Violet, I can call you that, can't I? You look positively radiant. It's easy to see where our darling Primrose got her looks from."

My mother laughs. "Oh Caesar, you're such a flatterer. But thank you. Cinna and his team do fabulous work."

"Indeed they do. So how are you finding the Capitol?" he asks. Unlike the tribute ones, these interviews don't have any time limit but I can tell that Caesar's falling back into his tribute interview mentality and it's a little disconcerting. It's almost like we're tributes in a different kind of Games.

My mother answers the best she can. "I haven't had much of an opportunity to see the Capitol, Caesar. I just got here this morning. But what little I've seen, I can see why Prim loves it here." I'm impressed at how good my mother is at bringing the conversation back to Prim.

Caesar takes the hint. "Prim is special little girl and quite a talented healer. Did she learn that from you?"

A smile crosses my mother's face and she nods. The question and answers go back and forth with my mother clearly trying to play up Prim's positive qualities. Her resourcefulness. She points to the nets and snares Prim's made and also to her healing of Peeta as well as her ability to think on her feet. All the while, my mother is subtly flirting with the crowd and Caesar.

"She doesn't mean anything by it," Cinna says cutting into my analysis of my mother's interview.

"What?"

"She's trying to make the crowd like her and it's working."

"How do you know?" I ask, slightly annoyed that I'm so easy to read.

He pulls out a tablet like device from beside him on the couch and hands it to me. I swipe my finger across the screen to turn it on. The screen resolves itself to a betting console and I look at Cinna in askance.

"I'm not allowed to bet on the Games. None of the stylists, prep teams, or escorts are. But we can still follow the odds makers and how many people are betting on our tributes. Before the announcement, your sister, despite Peeta's avowal of protection was still given the longest odds of winning of two hundred to one. Now she's moved up to one hundred to one."

I look at the board and see that Cato and Clove are unsurprisingly rated as the strongest at four to one and three to one respectively. "She's still has the worst odds according to this."

"But she's doing better. That's important. A lot of the sponsors like to throw their support behind a long shot and she's going to get money from that crowd."

Out of curiosity, I look to see where they rank Peeta. Twenty to one. That seems low for a tribute who scored a ten in training.

Cinna sees my confusion and correctly deduces why. "Peeta had a better ranking before he announced he was going to die for your sister."

I'm not really sure what to say. I can understand now why Haymitch is so angry at me and Prim and now when we have the opportunity to get them both back he's so intent on succeeding.

I watch the rest of my mother's interview with Caesar, while eating my dessert and chatting with Cinna. Cinna keeps slipping me pieces of fruit and I'm amused. It's clear that he's trying to help me gain weight and I appreciate it. I finally tell him that I'd really like something a little more substantial even though we ate lunch about an hour ago. He laughs and asks the waiting servant to bring us a tray of meats and cheeses along with more fruit. That way we can nibble on what we want. I nod and ask if we can have some goose liver and pickled vegetables as well. I'm going to take advantage of the Capitol's generosity while I can and the doctor's stern admonitions to gain weight are still ringing in my ears.

Farl, Peeta's middle brother, is up next and it's clear that he's nervous. Portia's dressed him in a simple outfit of pants, collarless shirt, and a flame patterned vest all in charcoal grey. They must be continuing on the flame theme from the Opening Ceremonies. Caesar is immediately aware of Farl's nervousness and does his best to make the teenager feel comfortable. They talk about Peeta and the bakery and Caesar gets Farl to admit to being able to beat Peeta at wrestling. They talk about wrestling for a while and it becomes apparent that this is helping Peeta look more like a contender in the eyes of the Capitol. They've already seen him take out a Career but that could have been a fluke. Now they know that it was skill and that matters.

Farl's interview is shorter than my mother's and soon it's Bing's turn on the stage. He's dressed in a lighter grey version of his brother's suit. Bing's not nearly as nervous as Farl was and that's a relief. He talks about how it's lucky that Peeta had two big brothers to mess around with him because it taught him from an early age how to take out someone bigger and stronger than him. He also mentions Peeta's skill at drawing and then pulls out a few pieces of paper.

The camera zooms in on them, and I can make out several sketches of various kinds of flowers on them - Primroses, Violets, Katniss, Roses, Bluebells, Irises, and more. Bing then goes to explain that Peeta did most of the decorating at the bakery once they realized his skill at drawing. I remember Effie's reaction to the sketches that Peeta did of me, she must have asked the Mellarks if they had any examples of his work.

As she predicted, the Capitol is enchanted by Peeta's ability, as is Caesar. He asks if there are any other sketches.

Bing looks offstage for a moment and then nods. "Our district escort has some more, she'll get them to your producer to show later."

"Want to build up the suspense, right?" Caesar teases.

"Definitely," Bing agrees.

I know which sketches they're referring to. The ones of me that Effie took from our house. Knowing that the Capitol is going to see them bothers me. They are personal. Private. I also know that I'm going to have to talk about them during my interview. I sigh.

Cinna notices. "What's wrong?"

I explain it to him.

He nods. "They are going to ask you about them. I'm sorry, Katniss."

I accept the apology for what it is and let the subject drop. Bing's interview finishes up and Mrs. Mellark is up next.

Caesar must have been warned ahead of time because he keeps her interview short and to the point. He makes sure not to bring up me or anyone from my family. In fact, he spends most of his interview with her talking about the outfit she's wearing. A smart red suit with black fur trim and glossy gold buttons with flames embossed on them. He has her model for the audience and exclaims on just how good she looks in the clothes and that it's clear that Peeta got his looks from her. He didn't. He looks more like his father than his mother, but Mrs. Mellark preens under the attention she's getting.

The last of the District Twelve interviewees for the early afternoon is Mr. Mellark. His interview is quieter and serious. He talks about how Peeta is a good obedient boy and cares for people with his whole heart with little concern for his own well-being. I sense Haymitch's coaching here. He's trying to portray Peeta in a more positive light so that the seditious words can be written off as the mutterings of an over-emotional love-struck boy. It seems to be working. Mr. Mellark obviously was aware of his son's feelings for me. He tells Caesar a story about how when Peeta was twelve and going up for his first Reaping, he asked his father if there was some way he could give a gift to me without me finding out that he was the one giving it. Mr. Mellark helped Peeta make the gift, an iced cookie, and slipped it into the bag with the bread he traded for some of the herbs I brought.

The last is a lie. I've never traded herbs to the Baker, it was a squirrel, but that explains the crudely decorated cookie I got that year. Mr. Mellark had said he threw it in because it wasn't good enough for customers but now I know the truth. Peeta had made it for me. I wonder about how many of the so-called extras I've gotten over the years from the Baker have been because of Peeta. Probably all of them, if I'm honest with myself. Those extras helped, a lot, and it's just one more thing I owe Peeta for.

There's a short break after Mr. Mellark finishes so that Caesar has time to freshen up and prepare for the next round of interviews. It's only been an hour and a half, but I'm grateful for the break.

"When do I need to go get ready?" I ask Cinna.

The man glances at a clock on the wall. "I've asked Flavius, Octavia, and Venia to join us at three. Your interview is scheduled to take place between five and six tonight."

I do the mental math and allowing for time zones, that will make it during Mandatory Viewing back home. I frown. That means Gale will be watching and I know he's not going to like what he's going to see. I only hope he doesn't do or say something stupid.

I turn my attention back to the television to find that they've switched back to showing the Games during the break. They're still focused on Cato and Clove and the two are struggling without much success to navigate through the woods.

"We need to find a place to hole up while your leg heals," Clove says.

Wincing with each step, Cato says, "You're right. But where? We don't want to be caught out in the open with the likes of Eleven and Twelve still around. The females wouldn't be much of a problem but the males could be deadly."

"I could scout ahead," Clove offers. "But I don't like leaving you alone."

"I'll be fine," Cato protests.

The girl from Two stops and looks up at him. She reaches up and cups his face in between her hands and breathes, "I don't want to lose you. Not now. Not when we're so close to winning it all."

He turns his head and kisses the palm of her right hand. "You aren't going to lose me," he whispers.

"You can't know that."

"I know it. The Capitol wants us to win. We just have to put on a good show and they'll reward us, you'll see. They've already changed the rules for us. They want us to be together, I just know it."

"You're right, I'm just afraid that the other meat didn't get the memo. Especially Twelve." She curls her lip at the last word.

"You'll just have to teach him a lesson," Cato soothes.

"I plan on it. I've got a knife with his name all over it."

The boy smiles down at her. "Should I be jealous?" he teases.

"Never!" Clove hugs him and for a moment I feel pity for these Careers from Two. They are so obviously in love and devoted to each other, I can see why the Capitol loves them so much. But, I tell myself, they need to die so that Prim can come home. These two lovers are standing between me and my sister and it's clear from their words that they've dehumanized the other tributes, referring to them by their district numbers and as 'meat.' I wonder what kind of training these two have gone through to become so callous toward their fellow tributes.

"It's hard to hate them isn't it?" Cinna observes.

I nod.

"You aren't the only one with that problem. Look." He motions to the screen.

The cameras have switched perspective again. Up in a tree about twenty feet from Cato and Clove is the remaining tribute from District Ten, Clint. He's got a rope in his hands and a knife strapped to his thigh. I wonder how he got up into that tree with his foot.

It's clear from the expression on the boy's face that he's been watching the whole exchange. He's having some kind of internal struggle and he keeps clenching the rope in his hands methodically.

The two Careers continue on their way right under Clint's tree. The boy from Ten watches them, but makes no move to give away his position.

"He could have gotten the drop on them," I say aloud. I don't ask the question as to why he didn't ambush the two. I don't need to. Even though Cato is injured and Clove is caring for him. Even though they were acting sweet just moments before, the fact remains that the two are killers. Even injured, Cato took out Axel. Clove isn't any less deadly. She's very accurate with her knives and extremely protective of Cato and he of her. No, it's safer to take them out one at a time.

The action changes back to the interviews with Caesar with the Games being shown in a small box in the corner of the screen. District Eleven is up next. It turns out that Rue is the oldest of six children ranging in age from ten to toddler. Caesar has the whole family up on the stage for the interview, which explains the break in the interviews to set up the stage to accommodate seven people and Caesar.

The parents spend lot of time talking about Rue's agility and resourcefulness. While her siblings who can talk, the youngest isn't able to speak in full sentences yet, talk about how their oldest sister is bossy and sneaky and likes to hide their toys up in the rafters of the house. It's kind of cute and the audience is enchanted. Especially when the youngest decides that Caesar's hair is "Pretty!" and tries to make several unsuccessful grabs at it. The interview lasts for about fifteen minutes before the parents signal that the toddler is in need of a diaper change and they wrap up.

Thresh's grandmother is escorted up next by his younger sister who is apparently named Winnow. They're also interviewed together and I wonder what kind of strings Effie had to pull to get us interviewed separately.

Winnow clearly doesn't want to be there and it shows. She's a lot like her brother with her answers: short and monosyllabic. But unlike her brother, who came off as menacing, she's coming off as sullen. The times when they cut away to the audience for reactions, I can see they aren't happy with what they are seeing and hearing. Their grandmother tries to do damage control as much as possible but she's hard of hearing and misses some of the questions directed at her. The whole interview is long and uncomfortable to watch.

Caesar tries to make them look as good as possible, but even he's starting to run out of questions to ask. The interview drags to a halt and Caesar announces that there's going to be another short break. Probably to prevent another miserable interview like the one that just finished.

I take the time to run to the bathroom again. When I return I see that Effie has joined us.

"So, Cinna tells me you've been watching the interviews. What do you think?" she asks.

"You've made your point," I answer. "Thresh's family's interview didn't help him at all, did it? Rue's family was cute but the most memorable part was the toddler, not anything they said about Rue."

"Exactly!" Effie responds with a little clap. "That girl, Winnow, had absolutely no presence or manners. I felt sorry for poor Caesar having to try to make the poor dear look good. She was positively dreadful. It's a good thing she's not a tribute or else she'd never get any sponsors."

I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to respond so I don't say anything.

Cinna seems to sense my discomfort and changes the subject. "Do you know who they're going to interview next?" he asks. I take the opportunity to slip around her and sit down on the couch as far away from the escort as I can.

Effie turns to him. "I believe they're going to interview the tribute from Ten's family next. Lucilla, Ten's escort, told me that they wanted to bring their animals with them but she managed to persuade them otherwise. Thank goodness. Can you imagine if the animal decided to do their business on stage?" She shudders. "Just think of the smell!"

"So are they going to try to put Two last?"

Effie smirks. "Haymitch told me that Brutus was furious that we'd gotten the first and last spots. But the early bird gets the pearl I always say! So they're scheduled to be after Ten."

"I thought they'd have Five go next," Cinna observes.

"From what I've been told, they're having trouble finding anyone to interview. It seems that the poor girl doesn't have any family or close friends."

"Poor girl," Cinna murmurs.

I take a chance that Effie won't be totally horrid and ask, "Where's everyone else? I'd have thought that they'd be up here with you."

Effie waved one hand. "Portia's escorted them to a little meet and greet the other escorts and I have organized. Many of the biggest sponsors will be there."

"Shouldn't you be with them?"

"Oh no! That'd be taken as too pushy! No, I've already talked to the most likely prospects earlier and I've given Portia a list of who to court and who to avoid. She'll make sure that any promises of funding get directed to Haymitch right away."

"Should I be there?" I want to know.

Effie shakes her head. "Not until after your interview with Caesar! We don't want to give away any spoilers."

"But won't they miss my interview?"

"Of course they won't!" Effie exclaims. "We've set up several screens, that way they can watch the interviews and mingle. It's really a well thought out plan!"

I nod not really sure I agree with her. Seeing that I have about an hour before the prep team shows up, I excuse myself to take a quick nap. Effie and Cinna both approve but for different reasons. Effie because it means I won't be sleepy for the after party later. Cinna because he knows what a long day I've had already and will continue to have.

**oOo**

I'm awakened by the sound of someone knocking on my door. I get up and answer it.

"Wakey, wakey sleepyhead!" Flavius greets me. Octavia and Venia are both equally chipper.

I manage a half-hearted smile at the prep team. They're fairly harmless and seem oblivious more than anything. They fuss and flutter about me removing the clothes I had on and making sure there aren't any stray hairs they'd missed. Then they have me sit down on a high stool.

I'm grateful that this is going on in the semi-privacy of my room here in the Training Center rather than some communal dressing room. When they deem me ready, Cinna comes in to give them his orders as to how I'm to be made up and then pulls out the dress I'll be wearing from the closet.

Venia quickly goes over to help the stylist inspect the dress for any wrinkles or any other imperfections. But from where I'm standing I can't see any. The dress is a calf length lace dress with triangular insets of crepe to make it flare out when I walk. It's primarily the color of candlelight with a slight gradient starting from the hem of a luminous orange. Here and there various crystals are sewn strategically over the lace so that it twinkles in the light. There's a pair of simple lace up sandals to go with it.

"It's beautiful," I tell Cinna after Octavia settles a delicate chemise over my head.

"You're the spark, Katniss," he tells me. "I wanted to do you justice."

"You have."

They do up my hair in a simple style with two braids along the side of my head merging into one with most of my hair left undone. Flavius carefully curls my loose hair with some kind of device to make it more pleasing to the Capitol audience.

Venia finishes helping Cinna with the dress and comes over to inspect me. I get off of the stool and she walks around me clucking her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She decides I'm ready and she and Cinna carefully help me into the dress so as not to mess up my hair. When it's in place, Flavius smoothes down any fly away strands with some kind of gel.

Then Octavia puts a cover up over me and the trio start in on my makeup. According to Cinna's instructions, I'm to be only given light makeup to enhance my looks. Whatever that means. But the prep team seems to understand it and I'm ready to go in just less than ten minutes.

I check the clock on the nightstand and realize that the whole thing has taken over an hour and a half. Ugh.

Effie and Cinna escort me downstairs and to the studio where the interview will take place. They take me directly backstage where I see all sorts of people rushing around.

I turn to Effie and ask, "Did they find anyone for Rani?"

"Who?"

"The girl from Five."

"Oh? No. A few classmates and the director of the community home she was from. That's it. No one really worth the expense of interviewing," she says dismissively. "You should be thankful. No family interviews for her means more potential sponsors for Peeta and Prim. You just have to go out there and be pleasant and polite like I taught you."

My eyes dart to Cinna who quirks his lips at me. I struggle not to laugh at the escort. She wouldn't think that's polite at all.

We're led to the wings of the stage and I'm able to watch what's left of the interview with Clove's family. She's got an elderly father and a fairly young mother. The mother is wearing the white uniform of a Peacekeeper and I am a little surprised. I didn't know that Peacekeepers were from Two. I thought they all came from the Capitol. I then wonder if they're going to air this interview in the Districts or not. They don't always. Because they don't want the Districts to know about the characteristics and lifestyles of the other Districts.

I briefly entertain the thought that I could sabotage my interview and talk about life in District Twelve and then they won't broadcast it. But then I realize that my interview will still likely be shown in Twelve because what I say will already be common knowledge there.

Clove's parents finish up and come offstage. Caesar again announces that there's going to be a short break before the final interview. Me.

The blue-haired host bounds offstage and comes over to where Effie, Cinna and I are standing.

"Effie! So good to see you! You look radiant!" Caesar greets. "Pink is such a good color on you!"

The escort pats her wig and looks pleased. "Thank You, Caesar. You know Cinna, of course."

"How could I not! Those costumes at the parade. Fabulous! I swear I could hear the gasps from the crowd. Such a bold statement!"

"You're too kind," Cinna murmurs. "I only wanted to do the tributes justice."

"And you did a fine job with that." He turns to me. "And who do I see here? You must be Katniss! I've been dying to meet you."

I want to ask if he really was dying, but I hold my tongue. Caesar is one of the most powerful men in the Games and I'd like to have him on my side. Instead, I say, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you too, Caesar. You look so much better in person, I have to say." He does, but that's not saying much.

"Do you really think so?" he asks. "I swear it's the camera. It adds ten pounds no matter what I do. You should see the diet I'm on. Nothing but blended juices. It's disgusting. But such is the price of fame."

I can't imagine deliberately starving yourself to be thin. If I could, I'd eat loads of food every day and damn the consequences. "I don't think you're fat at all, Caesar. You look just right to me."

Caesar sighs and looks at Cinna and Effie. "Isn't she quite the charmer. I can see why Peeta's in love with her. Why If I were ten years younger, I'd throw my hat in the ring for you."

I repress a shudder. Caesar's been the interviewer for longer than I've been alive. He's older than my mother. The thought of him and me... Ugh! I can't finish the thought.

Luckily I don't need to say anything, because a black clad man with a headset comes over and tells Caesar that they're going live in less than two minutes. Caesar thanks the man and turns back to us. This time he's all business. "Now, I want to quickly go over what we're going to talk about. Effie's given me the sketches Peeta did of you and we'll want to talk about those. Also I'm going to ask you to tell me some stories about your delightful sister, Prim. Then, we're going to talk about your and Peeta's relationship. Finally we'll finish with..." he pauses as if considering something. "Nevermind. I want it to be a surprise."

"You're making me nervous," I say.

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing bad, I assure you."

I want to demand that Caesar tell me what he's keeping secret from me, but I don't. "I suppose I'm going to have to trust you, Caesar," I say instead.

"Indeed you will," he says. "Now, if you'll excuse me." He sketches a quick bow at our group and bounds back onstage.

He's given the cue from the director up front and he once again launches into his stage persona. "Welcome back, folks! I hope you're ready for a rare treat. Now, I know what you're saying: 'Caesar, you've given us so many treats already today!' And I have. But you know me, I've got to save the best for last. And here she is, Katniss Everdeen!"

The crowd erupts in cheers and I walk out onstage. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cinna and Effie slip out of the wings and into a couple of chairs set off to one side. I'm glad to have Cinna where I can see him. I smile and wave at the crowd, who cheer and blow me kisses. I'm not comfortable with being in the limelight like this but I'll do what I need to in order to make sure Prim comes home.

I take my seat across from Caesar and the host calms the audience down with a few hand motions.

When they're quiet, Caesar begins. "Katniss, it is wonderful to finally meet you in person. We've heard so much about you that I feel like we know you already."

That's my cue to turn on what charm I have. "I hope I still have a little mystery, Caesar. But I will say, I am honored to be here tonight with you all and I'm grateful for the opportunity to talk with you about the people close to my heart." I'm lying and I hope it isn't too noticeable.

Caesar seems to take the words at face value. "You mean Peeta and Prim?" he asks.

I look out into the audience and find Cinna. He gives me a nod. So I take a breath and tell my second lie of the interview. "Yes."

"It must have been heart-wrenching seeing them both in the Games."

"It was. Is," I correct. "I'm eternally grateful to Prim for volunteering to take my place so that I could have my baby safely. And I'm also grateful that Peeta promised me that he'd protect my little sister in the Arena." I pause and give the cameras what I hope is an earnest look. "But what I'm most grateful for is the opportunity we now have for both of them to come home and all of the love and support the Capitol has shown them and me so far. I just hope that both of them can get up here at the end of the Games and tell you in person."

"I know many of us here feel the same," Caesar says and the audience seems to agree with him since they burst out into spontaneous applause.

"Thank you," I say. Then I turn back to Caesar. "So where should we start?" I ask.

The host laughs. "My, you're a determined young lady."

"Sorry, I just don't know what you want me to talk about first."

"Why don't we go back to that day two weeks ago when your name was pulled from the ball?"

I nod, not really wanting to talk about that day, but I know that I don't have a choice.

"What was your first thought?" he wants to know.

"Honestly?" I ask him.

"Honestly."

I take a deep breath. "I was scared." And because I know that the Capitol doesn't want to hear about how horribly we look upon the Games out in the non-Career Districts, I elaborate, "Normally I would be honored to be chosen. But I don't have just me to worry about." I place my hand on my stomach. "I was scared that because of my pregnancy I wouldn't be able to compete to my best ability. I was scared I would lose my baby. I was scared I wouldn't bring honor to my District."

"All valid fears," Caesar assures me. "And when Prim volunteered?"

"I was still scared, but for different reasons. Prim is my baby sister. It's hard to think of her being capable of competing in the Games when I still remember her learning how to walk."

"But she is capable, isn't she?"

I bless Caesar for that opening. "She's very capable," I state firmly. "She's quick and she's able to climb trees well. She's really good at setting snares and making nets. She's also a good healer which means she knows anatomy." I let them draw their own conclusions from that.

"It sounds like she's a talented little girl!"

"That's only the tip of her ability," I assure him. "But I'm afraid I'm going to come off sounding like a gushing older sister."

"Well, you are a gushing older sister."

"True, but I'm not supposed to admit that."

The audience laughs and I relax a little. It's working. I just hope I can get them to see that Prim is more than just her age and someone worth saving.

"So let's talk about Peeta," Caesar starts.

I nod and steel myself for the next part. This isn't going to be easy.

"How did you meet?" he asks.

I look at Cinna and I'm grateful that he and Effie prepared me for this. "I probably met him in school, but I wasn't really aware of him until later. You see, in District Twelve there are two groups: the Merchants and the Miners. My family worked in the mines while we all know that Peeta's family runs the town bakery. The two groups don't really hang out much."

"So you'd say that you're from different sides of the track, to quote the old phrase?" he asks.

I nod. "Yeah. It wasn't until I was eleven and my father was killed in a mining accident that I really noticed Peeta. It was spring, and I wasn't old enough yet to take out tesserae, and my mother got sick. She was sick for a long time and we weren't able to get any food because of it. I went into town to try to sell some of our things but it was raining really hard and not many shops were open. And to make things worse I lost what I brought to sell when I fell in a puddle." It's not the full truth, but I have to be careful with how much I say. I can't make it sound like the Capitol was at fault, even though they were. "I was really dejected and curled up under the apple tree outside of the bakery to cry. Peeta must have seen me from inside because a little bit later he came out with two loaves of partially burnt bread and gave them to me." I pause and look at Caesar with a serious expression on my face. "He saved my life. And more than that, he gave me hope."

"Hope?" the blue-haired host asks.

"Hope," I answer. "The next day at school when I went to go thank him and I saw a dandelion at his feet. I don't know if you know this, but dandelions are edible and I realized at that moment that I'd survive. I know that without Peeta, Prim and I wouldn't be here."

"That's pretty intense."

"It is. I owe him a lot." And that's the truth.

"I can see how he'd become important to you after a start like that."

I nod.

"So, why didn't you ever come out about your relationship?"

And here's where I need to lie again. I try to think of something close to the truth and I remember the class differences between us. "Because people wouldn't approve. I'm from the Seam. He's from the town. The last time a marriage happened between Merchant and Seam were my parents. And my mother was disowned for marrying my father. I...We..." I trail off deliberately to let them draw their own conclusions.

They do. There's a low rumbling in the audience and I can tell they're making the connection I want them to. That we weren't open about our relationship because of his parents. It's not true, but the truth won't save Prim.

"What drew you to Peeta?" Caesar wants to know next.

"His kindness," I answer promptly. "His goodness. His protectiveness. He is very hard to dislike, you know."

"Did you dislike him?"

"I tried. But I just couldn't. And things just went from there."

"We've seen that Peeta is an extraordinary artist. Did you know that about him?"

I decide to tell the truth. "Not until after he was reaped. His father gave me an envelope with some sketches in them and I was stunned by what I saw."

Caesar turns to the audience. "Would you like to see them?" he asks.

The crowd lets out several cries of affirmation. A screen descends and the sketches of me are shown to all of Panem. There are little oohs and ahs over them. But the one that draws the biggest response is of me rubbing my belly with a small smile on my face. The audience coos at that one and I struggle not to be too embarrassed.

"Peeta really is an amazing artist," Caesar says after the last sketch fades away.

"He is," I agree. "I'm really lucky to have those from him."

"Now we need to move on to the elephant in the room."

"Elephant?" I ask, not really sure what he's referring to.

"So Katniss, have you and Peeta discussed names for the baby?" Caesar starts the interview.

I blink. I'd been expecting him to ask about something else, not this. "Um, we haven't really had a chance to talk about it." It's the truth. We haven't had a chance to talk about it because he isn't the father of my child. But apparently the Capitol, as it is wont to do, got it all wrong and they think Peeta's the father. Oh boy, Gale's got to be livid. As if my talking about a pretend relationship wasn't enough.

Caesar reaches out and pats my stomach. "So, no special name for the little lady?"

"I'm having a girl?" I blurt out, reaching down to place my hands on my belly. I'm guessing one of the tests that they did when I got here told them that. We don't have capabilities like that in Twelve you find out the sex of the baby when it is born, not while the mother is still pregnant.

"Whoops!" Caesar says, putting a hand to his mouth. "I wasn't supposed to spill the beans on that, folks. Can you forgive me, Katniss?"

I manage a hesitant smile. "I guess. It's not like you can take it back now."

"No, indeed, I can't. So any favorite girl names?"

I shake my head. I honestly haven't thought of it. It's not important. When the baby comes, that's when coming up with a name matters, not before.

"Well, since you haven't thought of a name yet, maybe we can help?" I look at Caesar in confusion. How would he help? Caesar seemed to have expected this response because he turns to the audience. "What do you think, folks? Should we have a poll about what Katniss and Peeta should name the baby?"

The crowd erupts into cheers and claps. They love this idea. Oh great, I think, they're going to saddle my kid with a horrible name. I smile weakly. "I'm sure we'd be happy for the help. Assuming Peeta and Prim make it out of the Games." I don't want them to think they get to name my child if my sister doesn't come home.

"Then it's settled!" He says, clapping his hands. "We'll set up a hot line and collect suggestions and then the top five names will be picked and then voted on by the citizens of Panem."

The audience cheers are even louder than before. They're clearly invested in this drama now, but I can't help feel like I've gotten myself into a trap. Still, if it means that Prim is able to come home then any sacrifice is worth it.

Right?

* * *

AN:

Betaread by RoseFyre

Completed 7/4/13

Revised 7/7/13

Holy Crap was that long! But I'm not going to apologize for that. Feel sorry for my poor beta, Rose. She got this thing literally without me doing a read through because I'm smack in the middle of Camp NaNoWriMo to try to finish this sucker off. Seriously, almost ten thousand unrevised words. She had her work cut out for her. As always, any mistakes in this are mine and some are deliberate.

So I bet you'd like to know how the Capitol is going to choose Katniss' baby's name. Well, that's the beauty of the internet, I can solicit opinions. I've made a poll on my author page that you all can vote in. It's a blind poll because I won't be revealing the winning name until the baby is born in story. Alternatively, you can include your choice in a review you leave from here on out. That means that if you review, you can vote multiple times. Once for every review you leave and an additional one from the poll itself. I figure it's my way to give back to the people who take the time to comment.

I've also created a survey at Survey Monkey for those people who want to vote but don't have Fanfiction .net accounts. The link will be in my profile.

Here is the list of names you have to choose from:

1. Pudentiana  
2. Pulcheria  
3. Reparata  
4. Praxedes  
5. Matrona

I will give a virtual cookie to anyone other than Rose (who already knows) who can tell me what the naming scheme is.

A big thank you and virtual chocolate goes out to everyone who reviewed last chapter: the guests, RoseFyre, ForFutureReference, Everlark Lover, jj, HealthyHungerGamesObsession101, Katniss1439, Mercoorio, Silverbelle, Random Thought Girl, and ShortySC22.

I hope you all enjoyed and I look forward to hearing from you!

Thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One**

Interview over, I meet up with Effie and Cinna backstage.

Effie is ecstatic. She's bouncing up and down on her toes and clapping her hands together lightly. "You did beautifully, Katniss! Why I'm sure we'll be able to get oodles more sponsors now."

I nod and turn my eyes to Cinna. The stylist smiles at me and places a hand on my shoulder. "The crowd liked you. And now they have an extra stake in making sure Peeta and Prim come home. The Capitol wants to play a part in your story and they won't be able to play that part unless your sister and Peeta win."

"I hope they don't decide to saddle my baby with a name like Vomitoria or something like that."

Both Effie and Cinna chuckle. Effie smiles at me, like she understands how I feel. "Nothing says you have to call your daughter that. I'm sure whatever name the Capitol picks you can find a nickname from it," she says cheerfully.

"You mean like you did with Euphemia?" Cinna asks with a knowing tone.

The escort sniffs. "I don't know what you're talking about." Then she smiles. "You could also just give her another name and call her that."

"Wouldn't the Capitol be upset about that?" I ask.

Cinna shrugs. "Possibly. But I wouldn't worry about it now."

"That's very good advice, Cinna. Because right now you need to turn on the charm!" Effie claps her hands together. "Come on! Chop chop! So so so much to do and we need to get moving!"

That's right, the sponsor meet and greet. I stifle a groan. All I want to do is go back to my quarters and go to bed. The previous night of sleeplessness is starting to catch up to me. But I know I have to make an appearance and be charming to boot, although I'm pretty sure I used up all of my charm during the interview.

Effie leads Cinna and me to a waiting limousine. Inside, there's a basket with some bread, cheese, and cured meats. I glance at Cinna, knowing that this is his doing and he shrugs. "The doctor you saw earlier sent over her report," he explains. "It basically boiled down to 'she needs to eat more.'"

I wrinkle my nose. But I know she's partially right, I do need to gain more weight and while I'm here in the Capitol is the best time to do it. I take a few obligatory morsels and eat them but my heart really isn't in it.

We arrive at a large building with several potted plants out front and a large door. The door to the limo is opened for us and Cinna helps Effie and me out. Cinna's prep team comes forward and does a few repairs to my makeup and hair and then we're ready to go in. I'm reminded of the arrivals of various heads of departments to the presidential mansion following the last election. The tableau is oddly similar with a red carpet and camera crews behind a cordoned off area.

I try to smile and wave at them but I'm pretty sure it comes off as a grimace. I'm tired of playing this game and I want to go home.

We get inside and Effie immediately disappears to check on something, I don't know what and I don't want to know what.

Cinna leans down and whispers in my ear. "Prim's gone up to forty to one odds."

It's still the lowest odds of anyone left in the Games, but it's better than before. "And Peeta?" I ask.

"Ten to one. Just behind the two from Two."

"When do they stop taking bets?" I want to know. I don't like that people are betting on my sister's odds of survival but from what I've seen in Twelve there are those people who will bet on anything.

"Tonight at midnight," Cinna answers. "They don't want any last minute bets coming in when it's pretty clear who the winner is going to be. That's why they cut it off at midnight after the final tribute family interview airs."

That brings up another point. "When do they cut off sponsoring?"

"The short answer is they don't. The more accurate answer is that sponsorship late in the game is expensive and any money given is non-refundable if unused. That's why you tend to see tributes getting gifts of odd kinds toward the end. The mentors are trying to use up what funds they can and sponsors don't tend to give late in the game."

I nod. "So that's why it's important we get as much as we can now."

"Exactly."

Effie returns and leads us into a large room. Inside are about a hundred Capitol citizens mingling with the families of the remaining tributes. There are several tables laden with food here and there around the room and two large screens with seating set up to watch the Games. Over in one corner, there's a bank of telephones manned by a man with bright green hair. That must be where those interested in sponsoring go to make their arrangements.

I look around to see if I can spot my mother. It doesn't take me long. She's seated in one of the viewing areas talking with several older men. Most of them seem interested in what she is saying, but one is more interested in the front of her dress.

Nudging Cinna, I ask. "Who's that?" Indicating with one hand the leering man near my mother.

"Department of Minerals Assistant Deputy Director Virgil Snell, he's from old money and likes to think of himself as having a fine eye for and I quote 'a diamond in the rough.' He likes the ladies and has been known to buy a night here and there with a victor."

My blood runs cold at that last one. "Buy a night?" I can't stop myself from asking. I don't want to know but I have to know at the same time.

Effie's the one who answers, her voice quieter than the syrupy chirping I'm used to. "It's considered quite the honor to have a victor of the Hunger Games as a lover and many citizens of the Capitol pay quite handsomely for it. Some try to make it an exclusive arrangement. It's all managed through one of the President Snow's undersecretaries."

"But why would a victor agree to..." I can't get the words out and I can feel my cheeks flaming in embarrassment.

Effie just looks at me with sad eyes and shakes her head.

Cinna leans down and whispers the answer in my ear. "They don't have a choice, Katniss."

My eyes widen in horror and I look back and forth between the two. "You mean if Prim wins she'll have to-"

"Yes," Effie answers. "Not immediately, of course. She's far too young. But when she's more mature. Most don't start until they're seventeen or eighteen. Although I believe Finnick Odair began when he was sixteen." She looks over to Cinna for confirmation.

The man nods. "That's correct."

"So you see we have time yet," she finishes.

Time for what? Time to break it to my little sister that because she had the good luck to survive the Games that she's now got to whore herself out in order to keep the people she cares about safe? I don't know what to think. I'm horrified. "Is there anything we can do to stop it?" I manage to get out.

The escort shakes her head. "There is hope, not every victor is contracted for that. Some aren't as desirable or they're wanted for other things."

"What other things?" I ask suspiciously.

Again Cinna and Effie exchange a glance. "I believe Beetee Lee from Three is asked to make unique toys for Capitol children," Cinna says after a few moments. They don't give any other examples, which tells me that for the most part the Capitol will want you in their bed or not at all. I wonder if that's one of the reasons why Haymitch started drinking.

"We shouldn't worry about that now," Effie says. "We need to worry about getting your sister home first. I'm sure that they won't have Peeta on the rolls because of you; they wouldn't want to stand in the way of your love. As for Primrose, I'm sure something can be arranged." Effie sounds oddly confident, like she knows something about the system and how it works.

Still, her words don't make me feel any better. I can save Peeta from being forced to be a Capitol whore, but I can't save my sister I want to be sick.

It's apparently noticeable because Effie and Cinna pull me back through the doors and out into the hallway.

"Are you going to be able to handle being in there?" Cinna asks me.

"I don't know," I say. "How can you expect me to go in there and try to make these people like me all the while I'm going to be wondering which ones want to sleep with my baby sister?" I'm working myself up and I'm struggling to fight off tears. Damn pregnancy hormones!

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," Cinna says in a sad tone. He reaches out to try to comfort me, but I bat his hand away. I don't want to be touched right now. I don't want to be here right now. I don't want any of this.

Effie sighs and crosses her arms. "You really shouldn't have, Cinna. I mean really! You should have known better. Now she's going to be an absolute disaster and we'll be lucky to get any sponsors at all." She turns to me and bends down to look me straight in the eye. "Listen to me, Katniss. If you don't make an appearance, you're going to be dooming your sister and Peeta to death. Those people in there are able and willing to help you so long as you give them a little something."

I press myself against the wall. "You don't mean I'm going to have to sleep with them?"

Effie snorts and throws her hands up in the air. "Of course not! That's not what they want from you. They want to know how their contributions will make the love story they're watching on television come true. They want to feel like they are an integral part of the Games. You've gotten a good start with the poll to name the baby - I suspect we'll be getting several small donations from people who've got a stake in giving your child their favorite name. But we need more, a lot more."

Cinna lays a hand on the escort's shoulder. "Effie, you're scaring her."

She sighs again and straightens up. "I suppose this is a lost cause. I'll just go in there and announce you aren't feeling well and the doctors have prescribed lots of rest. It might salvage things so we don't lose the sponsors we've already gotten to commit." She sounds dejected, like she honestly wants Peeta and Prim to win.

So I ask her. "Why are you trying so hard? It's not like Peeta or Prim matters to you."

Effie takes a step back and her eyes widen in shock. She gapes at me for several moments then blinks her eyes rapidly and looks away. "That's just not true. I care deeply about what happens to Prim and Peeta." She actually looks hurt, but that could just be the makeup.

I don't let up. I need to know more. "But why? Is it because you want a better District?"

"A different District would be nice," she admits. "But it's not the only reason I want them to win and I don't think it's any business of yours what my reasons are. Especially not when you're going to be so rude about it."

I turn to Cinna. "What about you? Why are you helping out so much?" I am wary of them now. The revelation that the Capitol sees the victors as sex objects has shaken me to my core. I don't know what is worse, Prim dying in the Arena or Prim being forced into sexual slavery. And no matter what happens it's going to be my fault. I should be the one in there, not her. And if it weren't for this pregnancy, I would be.

"It's not your fault, Katniss. It's not Prim's fault, either. We all know whose fault this is." He and Effie share another look and I want to yell at them to stop it and tell me what they are communicating silently with each other. After a few seconds of silent communication, Cinna sighs. "As for why I'm helping out so much, that's actually pretty straightforward. It's the right thing to do, Katniss. Every child put into the Arena deserves the opportunity to come home, and for a long time District Twelve wasn't getting that. I wanted to help in what way I could. I still do."

"How can I trust you?" I tighten my hands over my stomach and realize that I've been guarding it subconsciously.

"There's nothing I can say that will make you believe me. All I can do is hope that my actions will speak for me," Cinna says earnestly.

"I mean really! After everything that we've done, I don't know how you can question our motives. Why I've been talking to everyone I know about your sister and Peeta and doing everything in my power to make sure that we can get sponsors. Why I've managed to secure over twenty thousand coin in promised funds," Effie huffs.

It's a lot of money and I goggle at the amount. "But why haven't they gotten any parachutes other than the one I paid for Haymitch to send?"

"They haven't needed anything. Well, other than burn creme and that got taken care of before we had the funds to send it to them," Effie answers. "With their alliance, Haymitch and I felt it best to save the money for when things are more desperate or we're closer to the end of the Games."

"But why are you so insistent we need more sponsors if we have so much money?" Twenty thousand coin could buy the entire Seam and still have some left over. It's more money than the miners make in five years of work.

"It isn't that much money. Not this late in the Games. And the alliance your sister has with the other tributes has to end sometime and with the destruction of the supply pile food, medicine, and weapons are now a very limited quantity," Effie explains efficiently.

I want to ask her how she knows so much. Why she seems so different from the Effie I'm used to seeing on stage at the Reaping, but I don't. I don't know if it matters. Cinna is right, there's nothing they can say that will make me trust them. But so far both of them have been honest with me about what the Capitol expects and what is going on. I may not know their motives, but their actions have been to make sure Peeta and Prim come home alive.

I lean against the wall and try to compose myself. I stroke my stomach and wonder if my little girl will have to go through this. Probably. If Peeta makes it out of the Games, from what I know about the Capitol's love for legacy tributes, she's going to be reaped. It won't matter that she really isn't Peeta's, they don't know that. She's going to go into the Games. The real question is when.

"Katniss, are you going to be able to do this?" Cinna asks after a few moments.

"I don't know," I repeat. I'm trying to calm myself down. To put on a mask that I can show to the potential sponsors, but inside all I want to do is run back to District Twelve and hide out in the woods where I feel safe.

Effie steps in, her voice back to the cheerful chirping I'm used to. "Would it help if I came with you? I could introduce you to the people that have already pledged money to help. You wouldn't need to do anything but say thank you."

I nod, grateful for the suggestion. "I think I could do that."

"And if it gets too much," Cinna adds, "we can excuse you on account of your pregnancy."

I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. "Let's do this."

Effie leads me back in and to a small group of people off to one side. She introduces them to me as Undersecretary Antonius and his wife Scribonia. Scribonia coos and places her hands on my stomach and I have to fight my reaction to smack her away. I don't like people touching me without permission but a warning cough from Effie restrains me.

Antonius and Scribonia were early supporters of Prim, not Peeta, they tell me. Apparently Prim reminds them of their little girl at home and the warmth and love with which they speak of their daughter, Antonia, is genuine.

A real smile comes to my lips and I ask them about their daughter and find out that she wants to be a doctor when she grows up, just like Prim. Their obvious pride is nice. They may look ridiculous with elaborately dyed hair and painted nails, but their love for their daughter is real. I'm grateful that Effie started with this pair. I chat with them for about ten minutes, during which Scribonia promises to send me Antonia's old baby clothes and crib, no matter the result of the Games. Part of me doesn't want to accept her charity, but I don't want to offend the woman. Effie steps in to say she'll make the arrangements and excuses me.

"How much did they promise?" I ask after we get out of earshot.

"Two thousand if she made it to the top twelve, which they've already delivered on. With another five thousand if Prim makes it to the final four," she answers.

"That's a lot of money for someone who reminds them of their daughter," I observe, wondering what the catch is.

Effie enlightens me. "I wouldn't be surprised if, if Prim wins, that at some point they requested Prim be a companion to their daughter. Not in a sexual way, but as a friend. Children of powerful and politically connected families don't have a lot of real friends. You actually get more honesty out of a 'hired' friend than your peers." Her voice seems distant for a moment then returns to its normal tone. "If the two girls work out well together, I might be able to negotiate a long term contract where they'd be her exclusive patron. Even allow Prim to attend the medical university here."

"They'd do that?" I ask, stunned at the implications.

"They are both very powerful and it is rumored that Antonius is thinking of a presidential run. It wouldn't hurt to be on their good side," she replies.

I find myself agreeing with the pink wigged woman.

She leads me to one of the viewing areas and has me sit down before signaling one of the nearby servants to bring us both something to drink. There isn't anyone watching the Games at this time so we're alone for the moment.

When the white-clad woman returns, Effie hands me a glass with some kind of pale yellow liquid with bubbles in it. "It's sparkling apple juice," she tells me. "From District Seven. It's non-alcoholic but no one needs to know that."

"Thanks. I'm not a fan of alcohol. It tastes funny." I don't tell her that it also goes straight to my head and I start losing whatever good sense I possess.

Effie smiles. "I agree with you. I've always wondered how Haymitch could stand the taste of it. But I guess after so many years of drinking he's lost his discerning palate."

"Who is next?" I want to know.

Effie rattles off a list of people while surreptitiously indicating them with a tilt of her head or a point of her finger. I'll be honest, I can't keep who everyone is straight and I'm glad that Effie's there to help me.

We get back up and rejoin the crowd and for the next hour I'm shuttled from sponsor to sponsor. All of these people have pledged to help my sister or Peeta or both. All of them are pleased to meet with me and discuss their impressions of the Games so far. I have a hard time keeping my cool at times, especially when someone insists on touching my stomach or giving me a kiss on the cheek. After each encounter, Effie takes me to someplace where I can calm down and get something to eat or drink. I'm glad she understands I need a break in between meetings. She also uses the time to fill me in about the next person we'll be speaking with so I don't make any mistakes and say something inadvertently offensive. Whatever her motivations, she's clearly doing her job to the best of her ability.

We're eating a few pastry wrapped snacks when a flurry of activity near the entrance captures our attention. A few Peacekeepers enter and take up positions on either side of the door. Then several more white-clad enforcers enter the room and block off the other doors leading into the room.

I glance nervously at Effie. What's going on here?

Effie shakes her head. She doesn't know.

I get my answer a few moments later when the door is held open and President Coriolanus Snow enters. There are several excited gasps from around the room but I'm nervous. My stomach is churning so badly that I'm afraid that my sparkling cider and appetizers will make a reappearance.

The president is shorter than I expected, but then I realize that I've only ever seen him on the TV screen and they must do some kind of editing to make him appear larger than life. He's got white hair and his eyes are cold and reptilian. Unlike most of his subjects, he doesn't have any outlandish tattoos or makeup and his clothes, while obviously well-made, are very simple by Capitol standards. The only affectation I can make out is a dark red rose on his lapel.

President Snow pauses upon entering and his eyes survey the room until they light on me. I feel a jolt of fear run through me when some emotion I can't identify flashes behind those snake-like eyes.

He walks toward me, stopping briefly to exchange a few pleasantries with the various assorted sponsors along his route. He's flanked by two huge Peacekeepers and a small, weedy woman carrying a clipboard who is clearly a secretary of some kind.

Coming to a stop before Effie and me, he waves off the two Peacekeepers. When one moves to protest, he says, "Please, I will be quite safe. I am certain neither Miss Trinket nor Miss Everdeen mean me any harm. Do you, my dears?"

"Of course not!" Effie says quickly.

The smell of the rose in his lapel assaults me as I shake my head. The scent is somehow wrong from that of a normal rose. Like it's been drenched in blood. I struggle to keep from gagging.

"See, Martinus? You have nothing to fear," he says smoothly to the Peacekeeper who protested.

The Peacekeeper, Martinus, steps back but rests one hand on the firearm holstered on his hip. It's a clear warning. Take one step out of line and face the consequences.

"I hope you don't my coming unannounced, Miss Trinket, to your little meet and greet. But I quite wanted to meet Miss Everdeen here."

"Of course not, sir. If I'd known you were interested in attending, I would have extended you an invitation personally." There's a hint of something in Effie's tone that I can't place. "We're so so so very honored to have you attend our little tete-a-tete. Is there something I can get you, sir?"

Snow smiles. It isn't a pleasant sight. Those blood red lips stretched across yellow teeth, I'm again reminded of a predator sizing up its prey. "A moment of Miss Everdeen's time is all I require. Thank you."

Effie bobs a little curtsey. "Of course, sir." She steps away but not before shooting me a look of warning. It's unnecessary, I'm already wary of what the president's intentions are and am disinclined to make things worse.

Snow motions for his secretary to follow Effie and then clasps my elbow to lead me to a more secluded location in the room. I struggle to contain a shudder when his cold hand makes contact with my flesh.

"I hope you don't mind this little visit, Miss Everdeen," he begins, straightening his lapels.

Again, I'm assaulted by the stench of blood and roses mixed together and I swallow a few times to settle my stomach. "Of course, I don't mind. Effie is right. It is an honor to have you here." Granted it is an honor I would rather forgo, but I'm not about to tell him that.

"You strike me as an honest soul, Miss Everdeen. So I propose that there be no lies between us. Do you agree?"

I nod, not certain of his game. Honesty is probably a good idea, I don't know what kind of information he has and I've got a hunch it'd be a bad idea to be caught in a lie.

"Good. So how are you finding the Capitol?" he asks.

This is a question I can answer without any fear. "A bit overwhelming, sir. It's very different from District Twelve."

He smiles. "Of course it is, my dear. It's been quite a while since I've visited your district, I'm wondering if that's not been a mistake now."

I tilt my head in confusion but don't say anything. I don't want to say something that could be taken the wrong way.

"Has everyone here been treating you well?" he asks next.

"Everyone's been pleasant to me for the most part," I answer.

He raises an eyebrow. "'For the most part?'"

I sigh. Of course, he would focus on that. "The doctor I saw this morning. She was a little short with me."

"Ah, yes," he says with a nod. "I read Dr. Hyde's report. Low body weight of both the fetus and mother. Signs of malnutrition and bone loss. She was most adamant that the mother, you, stop starving herself to maintain her figure. She was a little surprised you'd managed to stay pregnant without serious complications."

I stiffen. It's not like I wanted to starve myself! "I didn't know it was that bad," I say instead.

"I know, my dear. It's really most fortunate I thought of having the final eight tributes' families come to the Capitol. Without it, who knows what would have happened?" That sounds like a threat.

"I appreciate all of the care I've been given here," I answer. "It's more than we have available back in Twelve."

"Yes, I can see how a lack of adequate medical care can make things difficult. We'll have to do something about that," he says, as if to himself, but I know that isn't the case and I wonder what he has planned. He smiles at me. "However, that isn't why I wished to speak with you."

"Oh?"

"I caught your interview with Caesar earlier. It was very moving." He pauses and fixes me with that reptilian gaze of his. "How much of it was true?"

My heart starts racing and I know I'm in trouble. "I'm not sure what you're asking, sir." I say to stall for time and to try to figure out what parts he thinks are lies.

"No, perhaps you don't. Maybe I need to ask a different question." He shifts slightly toward me. "Does Peeta know he's not the father of your child?" His reptilian eyes are intent, taking in my every reaction.

Crap! One of the tests I was subjected to earlier must have been a paternity test or something like that. "He knows," I answer in a small voice.

Snow blinks. "And he still loves you and is willing to sacrifice himself for your happiness. He truly is a remarkable young man."

I straighten. "Yes, he is. He didn't have to promise to watch out for Prim but he did because he's a good person!"

"So quick to defend him," Snow murmurs. "Perhaps I was wrong about your feelings for him."

Again, I don't say anything.

"Is it true that your parents oppose your relationship?" he asks next.

This is something I can answer truthfully. "His mother hates me, sir. She always has and she hates my mother even more."

"Why is that, do you think?"

"She thinks Mr. Mellark is in love with my mother," I answer.

"And why would she think that?" he wants to know.

"Because he was before they were married. But my mother married my father instead." I'm trying to keep my answers short and to the point. To not give him any more information than I absolutely have to, but it's hard.

He tilts his head to one side. "Your father was a coal miner, correct?"

"Yes," I answer and then fill in what I'm sure will be the next question. "He was killed in a mine explosion when I was eleven." I'm sure it's in whatever file he has on me.

Snow nods his head. "I remember that. And I seem to recall from your interview that it was after that tragic event when you claim that Peeta Mellark saved your life."

"He did," I say and then elaborate because it seems to be needed. "I didn't want to say it in front of all of Panem but he burned the bread on purpose so he could give it to me. And his mother beat him because of it."

Snow turns to regard Mrs. Mellark thoughtfully. "Did she? Poor Peeta. That had to be difficult for him growing up."

I shrug. "I guess."

"So how did you feel about our little rule change, Miss Everdeen?" I sense a trap but I'm not really sure where.

"I was happy about it." I don't know what else to say. It's true, I was happy because it improved Prim's chances for survival but I don't think saying that would be a good idea. I have a hunch that every word I say is going to be used against me at some point in the future.

"Please excuse my forwardness, but before the announcement which one of them were you hoping would come home?"

I know that my sponsorship contribution is on record. "You're right, that is forward," I say, stalling for time to think up an answer that doesn't sound as damaging as the unvarnished truth.

"It is. Your answer, please," Snow insists, his eyes peering at me intently.

"My sister," I say finally. "She volunteered for me. For my baby. It'd be disloyal for me to hope she died in the Arena." Then, I add to try to soften the blow. "But, if she didn't make it, I'd want Peeta to come home. He deserves it too. And I'm glad that I don't have to make that choice."

"Indeed, you do not." He smiles at me. "I appreciate this little talk. It's been most enlightening. I wonder, though, what you'd be willing to do to make sure your sister comes home."

The words slip out before I can stop them. "I'd do anything."

He purses those red lips of his and the smell of blood gets worse. "I do believe you would, Miss Everdeen. I shall hold you to that."

Oh no, what have I just agreed to?

My horror must show on my face because President Snow reaches out and pats me on the shoulder. "Don't be afraid, my dear. I promise I shall not ask you to do anything unpleasant."

That isn't very comforting.

"Indeed," he continues. "I am quite taken with your little drama. It's a most entertaining story. Even if that is all that it is. It's quite generous of you to include us in it."

"You're referring to my allowing the Capitol to help Peeta and me name the baby?"

"Quite so. I think I may have to participate in this drama," he smiles down at me. "I am very taken with the name Virgilia."

I think it sounds like a horrible name, but I don't say so. Instead, I reply, "I can't play favorites, sir. You'll have to go through the same steps as everyone else who's invested in naming my baby."

"How very democratic of you, Miss Everdeen," he murmurs.

I'm not sure if he meant it as a compliment or not, but I'm going to act like I think it was. "Thank you, sir. I do want to be fair, but like I said in my interview, I'll only give my child the name the Capitol picks if Peeta and Prim make it home."

Snow chuckles. "Very intelligent of you to do so, Miss Everdeen. And very sneaky. I'll need to remember that. Still, it was wise of you not to promise something without getting something equally precious in return." He pauses. "Well, if I cannot influence your choice of name, then I shall endeavor to assist your sister and young Mr. Mellark in their struggles in the Arena."

"Sir?" I'm confused. Is he saying what I think he's saying?

He turns away from me and raises his voice. "Miss Trinket, could you join us for a moment?"

Effie bobs a nod and minces over to where the president and I are standing. "How can I help you?" she asks, her eyes flitting back and forth from the president to me. I shake my head, I don't know what he's planning to do either.

"Miss Trinket, I would like to sponsor both Primrose Everdeen and Peeta Mellark from District Twelve in the amount of thirty thousand coin." He pauses dramatically. "Each."

"Sixty thousand?" Effie gasps. "Sir! I don't know what to say. The honor you've done us. When they emerge from the Arena, I'll make sure to let them know of your generosity!"

"Please, Miss Trinket, do not make a fuss on my account. I am simply a citizen of the Capitol throwing my support behind my favorite tribute, or tributes in this case."

"Still, the honor," she breathes, then stops herself. She straightens. "I'll get the paperwork together for you."

He waves his hand. "No need, Miss Trinket, I've taken the liberty of already having it drafted up." He motions to the weedy woman who'd accompanied him. "Ms. Reed, if you would be so kind?"

The woman removes a few sheets of paper from the top of her clipboard and hands them to the President.

He glances at them briefly and then holds them out to Effie. "I believe everything is in order."

The bewigged escort accepts the papers and peruses them intently, her lips drawing into a fine line. After a few minutes, she nods and says, "Thank you, Mr. President. I'll make sure it's put to good use."

"That's all I ask, Miss Trinket." He turns back to me. "See, my dear, I really am invested, quite literally, in your sister and lover's survival. I do hope you will consider my request. Virgilia is a lovely name."

I nod dumbly, not trusting myself to speak. Sixty thousand coin. I can't even imagine a sum that large and President Snow's just thrown it out there like it was pocket change.

He excuses himself and starts to make a circuit around the rest of the room.

Effie and I stare after him. Just what kind of game is he playing?

All I know is I don't want to find out.

* * *

**AN:**

Written: 7/6/13

Revised: 7/13/13

Beta Read (twice!) by RoseFyre

Got to love President Snow. He was such a fun character to write.

As a reminder Katniss' baby name poll is still up or you can leave/repeat your name choice in a review. A bunch of people got that the names were all saints.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed: All of the guests, ForFutureReference, hgfan, ThaliaFairbain, SilverBelle, Random Thought Girl, LuckyDuckyPomluv, TheDarkLord'sMistress, Everlark Lover, Danalas the Lady Chaos, jj, mum2shane, Katara1439, RoseFyre, Paige, Erin, & ShortySC22.

Please Review!


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Spectator

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Two**

After Snow's visit, I don't have the ability to handle any more socializing. All of my charm, all of my diplomacy is sapped. All I can think about is that exorbitant sum and that if Prim and Peeta survive the Arena that I'll be in debt to Snow. I also can't shake the feeling that I've told him something damaging and dangerous. I'm not a politician, I'm just a girl from the Seam who's managed to get entangled in something bigger than me.

Effie luckily seems to understand that I've reached my limit and sends a servant off to fetch Cinna. She escorts me to the limousine, all the while trying not to let her dismay show on her face. She's not completely successful; her painted lips are fixed into a smile that is more grimace than grin and her entire posture is tense.

She's as nervous about Snow's contribution as I am and I'm a little confused by her reaction. She's a citizen of the Capitol. She's one of Snow's people. She should be elated by the amount and the endorsement. But instead she's clearly fearful. I wonder why.

Cinna joins us a few minutes later and the three of us take the short trip back to the Training Center in relative silence. Cinna informs Effie that he's instructed Portia to bring the rest of the Twelve contingent home in an hour, but that it would look odd if we all left the party at once. Effie nods, but doesn't say anything. I can tell she's thinking by the way her hands keep fidgeting with the fingers of her lace gloves.

It's a little after nine when we get back to Twelve's tribute quarters. I want to go to bed despite the hour, but Effie and Cinna make me eat a full dinner and take the vitamins that Dr. Hyde prescribed. While we're eating, or rather the two watch me eat while they have a drink, Effie goes over what is planned for the rest of the Games.

Tomorrow morning I will be allowed to have to myself. After lunch, someone yet to be determined and a camera crew will collect all of us from Twelve's quarters and take us on a tour of the Training Center. She tells us we'll be able to see the training stations and she's even managed to convince one of the instructors to come in and give a demonstration. Then we're going to have dinner with the victors who are not actively mentoring.

The next day, assuming the Games aren't over, we're going to be taken to the mentor station in the morning where we will meet with Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane and see what the mentors actually do, also assuming that Seneca can join us. After that, we'll be allowed to either watch the Games in a special viewing room where we can meet with various members of the public who have paid for the privilege some of whom might be willing to sponsor our tributes or we can watch the rest of the Games with the victors who aren't mentoring. Both viewing rooms will be taped, of course, to be edited together into some kind of montage so the rest of Panem can see the Capitol's benevolence.

I wonder what would happen if a family member didn't want to stay in the public eye, but decide that they'd be convinced to by something happening to their tribute.

I go to bed and have strange dreams about President Snow escorting me all over the Capitol and showing me the various sights, all the while he's got Prim in a cage screaming to be let out. I try to do something, but Snow just stops me with a wave of his hand and the words, "That isn't how the game is played, Miss Everdeen."

Suffice it to say, I don't sleep well. I wake up and glance at the clock. It's not even five in the morning. I roll over and try to go back to sleep, but it's not happening. Getting out of bed, I wander over to the window and look out at the Capitol below. Most of the city is quiet, but here and there I can see pockets of people congregating and partying in front of large video screens showing the Games.

After taking a shower and getting dressed in a simple outfit of pants and a loose shirt, I go to the food dispenser and order up a basket of assorted rolls with various spreads and a large cup of mint tea. My stomach is still uneasy in the mornings, but it isn't as bad as it was the morning of the Reaping.

Food in hand, I walk into the sitting room. Unsurprisingly, there isn't anyone else awake. I find the remote and turn on the television. It's daylight where the Games are taking place, although from the angle of the sun it looks like it's still early in the morning where ever they are.

The camera is focused on Cato and Clove. The two of them have managed to find a hollow under a fallen tree, but they look miserable. Cato is sleeping fitfully and I think his leg is likely bothering him and may be infected. Clove is awake and is going through what little supplies they have.

I'm not surprised to see that they have more weapons than actual survival gear. Cato has his short sword, a little dinged up from the explosion but still deadly. Clove has one full complement of throwing knives and another partially used one. Two daggers, a hunting knife, and a few garrotes round out the rest of the weapons. In addition to the backpack itself and Axel's sleeping bag and the dead boy's clothes, they have two water bottles both of which are empty, a bottle of iodine, a box of fifty waterproof matches, a plastic poncho for keeping off any rain, and a spool of wire. Food wise, they aren't in horrible shape with four cans of preserved meat, a tin of sardines, two boxes of soda crackers, and a large packet of dried fruit. Sitting next to the food is what's left of the medicine kit sent by the sponsors, I can see packets of antiseptic creme and a few rolls of clean bandages.

The girl finishes her cataloging and sits back on her heels. She brushes the high ponytail holding her brown hair back and sighs. She doesn't look happy. She packs everything up except for her and Cato's weapons and some food: a packet of crackers and the dried fruit.

She shakes Cato awake. "We need to get going," she says. "We're out of water."

Cato nods and struggles to get out of the bedroll. "Do we have a whetstone?" he asks after he is free.

Clove shakes her head and goes to roll up the sleeping bag. "No whetstone. No oil. Only about two days worth of food. Minimal weapons," she says listing off their supplies. I'm surprised at her assessment that they only have two days worth of food. That much could last me several days, possibly a week if I was frugal. But then I realize that I'd be supplementing what was in the pack with what I could forage. Being Careers, Clove and Cato don't know how to do that.

"I think we should go back to the lake and fill up on water," Cato decides. "If anyone investigated the explosion, they're likely gone now."

"We can't stay there," Clove warns. "It's too exposed and we're too vulnerable. We need someplace defensible."

The blond Career looks down as his leg. "I'm sorry. I'm slowing you down."

Clove seizes Cato's head between her hands and forces him to look at her. "It. Is. Not. Your. Fault," she hisses, enunciating every word. "That prick from Three did this. You killed him. We just have to soldier on. Together." She gives him a fierce kiss and he returns it happily.

They eat their breakfast of crackers and fruit and set off back toward the clearing and the lake. It's slow going, but they make decent time.

They stop about an hour later, and Clove checks Cato's wound. It's pink and inflamed and oozing slightly. She frowns and slathers antiseptic creme on it then wraps it with a fresh bandage. She's right, they need to find someplace to hole up so Cato's wound is able to heal more.

I eat my rolls and drink my tea, wondering why they haven't gotten more sponsorship gifts. Probably the mentors waiting until they really need something. Based on how much money Prim and Peeta have gotten, I'm sure that Cato and Clove have more and the medicine kit even with the inflated prices shouldn't have cleaned them out.

It takes them another hour to reach the edge of the clearing. Cato is moving better than yesterday, but it's still slow going. They emerge from the woods near the side of the clearing that's next to the steep cliff and the grain field beside it. Clove looks over the edge of the cliff with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Cato," she says. "I think that's wheat down there."

"How can you tell?" he asks.

"I'd have to get a closer look," she admits. "But it reminds me of the pictures my mother showed me when she was stationed in Nine." I remember Clove's mother is a Peacekeeper and apparently she was stationed in the District responsible for providing most of Panem's grain. I wonder absently where she's stationed now. I hope not Twelve, because if Prim and Peeta win that would be awkward.

Clove walks along the edge to see if there's an easy way down. There isn't. The cliff runs all the way out into the lake and even at its shortest, the escarpment is over an eight foot drop. Where she's standing, the drop is over twenty five feet. She eyes the drop and then looks back at Cato. "Do you think you can swim?" she asks.

"What do you have in mind?" he wants to know.

She walks back over to where he's standing on the edge of the clearing leaning on a tree. "I don't think you can climb down the cliff," she says. "But I think we can get around the cliff by swimming around it to the other side."

Cato nods. "We can try."

They cross the clearing to the edge of the lake. There Clove strips down to her underwear and packs her clothes into the backpack. She wades out into the lake and toward where the cliff enters the water. When she reaches the edge, she feels around with one leg to gauge the depth. She frowns and then sits down on the edge. She puts the back pack on top of her head and then eases herself over the edge. The water comes up to her neck and I can see she's treading water. Balancing the pack on her head, she slowly swims toward the shore.

About twenty feet from the edge, she is finally able to put her feet down and walk up onto the small beach. She empties the pack of its contents and fills up the empty water bottles and adds the iodine to purify the liquid. Then she sets back for the other side and her waiting love.

Once there, she fills the pack with Cato's clothes, the bedroll and the weapons that Cato had on him. She repeats her trip and when she reaches the other side, she leaves the pack entirely. She gets back into the water but stumbles over some submerged rock or root.

The cameras zoom in on something. In the reeds near the drop off is a flash of movement under the water. I wonder what it could be and I don't have long to wait. The camera switches to an underwater view and I can make out a large torpedo-like shape that's about five feet long.

Muttation.

The thing has speckled skin that helps it hide in the freshwater lake. Its head is shaped like some kind of lizard. Its mouth, which opens and closes with the motion of its gills, is lined with sharp pointed teeth. The early morning commentator identifies it as an alligator pike but I know that's just a name that the Capitol made up to make the muttation seem less unnatural. The thing is a monster.

While the commentator has been talking about the alligator pike, Clove has recovered and is swimming back to where Cato waits. She helps him into the water and to the edge of the cliff.

As soon as Cato sits down in the water, the alligator pike seems to awaken. It edges out of the reeds and toward the two Careers.

The two teens aren't aware of the approaching muttation and are concentrating on making it to the shore. Clove is on her back with a grip on one of Cato's arms and using her legs to propel them through the water.

They're fifteen feet away from the edge of the cliff and twenty five feet from the shore when the alligator pike makes its attack.

It charges the two Careers, making a beeline for their kicking legs. It misses with its mouth but manages to scrape Clove's right leg with the spines in its top fin.

She screams and clutches at her injured leg.

"Clove!" Cato cries.

"We're under attack!" she yells back. "We've got to get out of the water!"

Both teens double their pace, but it's not fast enough. The muttation has doubled back for another attack and this time it's aiming for Cato.

The fish scores a hit on the calf of Cato's injured leg and latches on. Cato lets out a huge howl of pain and tries to free himself but the alligator pike isn't willing to let go. Clove tries to help but she can't get the fish's jaws to budge.

"I'm going for a knife!" she yells. "Hang on!" She swims as fast as she can to the shore and their supplies. She sprints to where she emptied the pack on the first run and pulls out a hunting knife.

She turns to see Cato struggling to keep his head out of the water. She fixes the knife between her teeth and runs back into the lake.

Out in the water, the mutt is trying to drag Cato further out into the lake and away from the safety of the shore. The Career is fighting back, trying to find the fish's eyes or gills to get away. He's not having much luck.

And he's starting to tire.

Clove reaches him and grabs the knife out of her teeth. She slips under the water and tries to find the base of the muttation's head. When she finally does, she plunges the knife with all of her strength into the fish.

The muttation goes wild, thrashing its body trying to get the knife that's wedged in its spine out. Its top fin flares and catches the submerged girl in the gut, impaling her shallowly across her stomach. But Clove's gambit worked, the fish let go of Cato.

The girl from Two pops to the surface and gathers in a deep breath. She reaches out to Cato with one hand. "Grab it! I'll pull you to shore!"

He does, but I can see that his grip is weak. That he's weak.

Clove isn't much better, but she's somehow managing to pull strength from somewhere to drag the two of them through the water. She reaches the point where she can put her feet down and shifts her grip on Cato to pull him up onto the shore.

He doesn't look good. The hulking blond boy has gone pale and his lips have a bluish tinge to them. I don't know if it's from the temperature of the water, blood loss, or both.

Clove gets him onto the shore and moves to inspect his leg. The stitches she'd put in earlier have pulled and torn and the knife wound Axel gave him is bleeding sluggishly. She frowns. Then she examines his calf. The bite is ragged and the muscle below is clearly visible under the skin. The only bright side is it appears that the bite missed the major arteries. The wound is bleeding, but it isn't gushing or pumping blood. Still, Cato is in bad shape.

The boy is awake and he and Clove manage to get him further up the beach. Once again, the pack and bedroll are used to elevate the leg while Clove gets to work on healing Cato. She doesn't bother rinsing the wounds with disinfected water but immediately goes to the pack and retrieves the medical kit from it. She pulls out a curved needle and some thread.

"This is going to hurt," she tells Cato when she finishes threading the needle.

"Do it," he orders her. "I'll be fine."

She does.

The boy clenches his teeth and looks away from where Clove is working. She sews up his thigh first before moving to his calf. There, she works on the worst punctures before she finally runs out of thread. There are still two fingertip sized holes in Cato's leg, but there isn't a lot she can do about it.

She gets two packets of antibiotic creme, leaving only two remaining, and spreads it on both Cato's thigh and calf. Then she wraps the wounds with the clean bandages, using them up. It's not as good as my mother or Prim's work. But it's pretty apparent that she's had some first aid training. I guess that the Careers aren't just taught how to kill.

"I don't think we should move very far," Clove decides. "We can camp here for the day."

"We're pretty exposed," Cato points out.

"But who's going to be able to get us?" she retorts. "If we move away from the cliff, no one can get the drop on us. It's flat all around us and the lake is behind us. It's not perfect, but it will do."

"We won't be able to light a fire without being spotted."

She shrugs. "It's a chance we're going to have to take."

The girl sets up camp away from the edge of the lake and helps Cato get onto the bedroll. She props up his leg with the pack and pulls on some of her clothing. "I'm going to scout around. See if I can find anything to eat or maybe a better place to camp."

"Don't go too far," he warns.

"I'll stay within earshot," she promises. She drops to her knees next to him. "You've got to stop getting hurt. I can't stand seeing you hurt. It tears at my heart."

He reaches up and brushes back a strand of wet hair from her forehead. "Now you know how I felt after the bloodbath."

She hugs him tightly, placing her head against his bare chest. "I love you," she whispers.

He strokes her wet head. "I love you too," he replies.

"Well, isn't that just disgusting!" Mrs. Mellark's voice cuts through the air, startling me out of the Games.

I turn to see Mrs. Mellark and Mr. Mellark standing near the steps leading to the raised dining area. I apparently was so engrossed in the Games I didn't hear them come in. Some hunter I am.

I don't bother asking what Mrs. Mellark found disgusting. It doesn't matter and it's not worth giving her any more ammunition. But I give a small smile to Mr. Mellark, who returns it.

"I saw your interview yesterday," he says. "Thank you."

"I don't know what you're thanking that girl for, Matz. All I saw yesterday was a girl making a fool of herself and our son."

The baker turns to her. "But she also got over forty thousand coin in sponsors for him. If that doesn't deserve thanks, I don't know what does."

Mrs. Mellark just sniffs and walks away.

I nod my head at Mr. Mellark. I appreciate him coming to my defense and I know he didn't have to do so.

He comes over and sits down next to me and I see his eyes linger on the rolls in front of me. "How are they?" he asks.

I get the sense that he's not just asking about the bread but also the Games. The screen is still showing the two Careers, so I ignore the television and focus on the man beside me. "The bread isn't as good as the stuff your family bakes," I say and it's the truth. The bread isn't as good. "It's a little too flavorless to my taste. These were just something to eat while I watched the Games and waited for everyone else to get up."

He nods. "I noticed that too. The lack of flavor, I mean. I think it might be because their bread is mass produced in factories here. I was talking to a man who owned the Marvel Bread Company last night, he tried telling me all about his efficient process and I kept thinking that all that efficiency leads to soullessness. His bread doesn't have any heart to it. It might be filling and make an acceptable sandwich, but it doesn't have any personality."

I nod and I get that he's not just talking about bread. For all of their odd appearance, the citizens of the Capitol all have a sense of sameness about them. The Careers are that way too. One's tributes are all beautiful, well-spoken, and deadly. Two's are ruthless, bloodthirsty, and hard. Four's have a little more variety, but for the most part they are all strong, attractive, and good with spears and nets. It's in the other Districts that you have the memorable tributes like Johanna Mason from Seven and Titus from Six. "So do you think we can convince the Capitol that they don't need to have bland bread anymore?" I ask, referring to the Capitol's love of the Careers.

"I hope so. It'd be nice to have a little variety. But I think it's going to take a lot of convincing." He reaches out and pats me on the hand.

I nod. It is going to take a lot of convincing to make the Capitol change its allegiance from Cato and Clove to Peeta and Prim.

The announcer's voice becomes more excited and Mr. Mellark and I turn to look at the screen. There's a little silver parachute coming down near where Cato is lying. Clove isn't nearby, so the boy crawls the few feet to retrieve it. He opens it to find a small bottle of pills. The boy looks at it and tries to figure out what to do with it since there are no instructions or labels on the bottle or in the parachute container. He opens the bottle and gives it a little sniff. His brow wrinkles in confusion and he recaps it and places it down next to him.

The commentator informs us that the sponsorship gift is a bottle of pain reliever/fever reducer/inflammation reducer rather than an antibiotic. If I had to guess, the mentors don't think Cato's wound is serious enough for a heavy duty antibiotic or they're more concerned about the pain slowing him down than the infection killing him. I don't think it's because they don't have the funds, although I could be wrong.

My mother and Peeta's brother, Bing, join us next. Farl is still sleeping and Mr. Mellark mentions that he's not been sleeping well ever since the Games started. He lowers his voice and then says it's because he feels guilty. Part of me thinks he should feel guilty, but the larger part understands how he feels. If I could, I'd be in there for Prim, but I can't. It's rare for people other than those in the Career Districts to volunteer for the Games and until this year, it had never happened in Twelve.

Effie joins us and announces that breakfast has been laid out for us. We join Mrs. Mellark who's already helped herself to the heaping piles of food on the sideboard. If anything there's more food here than there was on the train. Definitely too much for all of us to eat. I wonder what happens to the uneaten food.

Breakfast is an awkward affair with Mrs. Mellark sniping at my mother and me while Mr. Mellark and Bing try to distract her. My mother ignores her and concentrates on her food.

As for me, I spend much of my time talking with Effie about what she actually does as the escort to District Twelve. Apparently it isn't just selecting names from the Reaping Ball and accompanying two scared young kids on the train ride to their deaths. As an escort, she is required to fill in when Haymitch is sick or sleeping. She also attempts to drum up sponsors for her tributes, although that is more difficult with Twelve's losing streak. She coaches the tributes in preparation for their interviews. She keeps everyone on schedule, including the mentors. She makes the arrangements for the coffins and shipment of the tributes' bodies back to their home District. Finally, she helps select the stylists and prep teams. Her duties actually increase if her District has a winner, since she's the one who plans the Victory Tour and all of the celebrations and parties that follow. The position isn't as brainless as I thought.

After breakfast, I snag a few pieces of fruit and head back to watching the Games. I'm joined by my mother and Farl when the latter gets up. Bing decides to watch the Capitol from the balcony with Portia. While Mr. and Mrs. Mellark head back into their bedroom to have an argument. I don't know about what, but I can hear their raised voices through the closed door. Effie excuses herself, saying that she's going to go give Haymitch a break.

Not much really happens, although the Gamemakers do flip back to showing Prim's alliance. I can see that the group is eating fairly well, using Prim's homemade nets to catch fish and Rue's ability to find edible plants. The little girl from Eleven has even managed to kill an odd looking bird with her slingshot that is now roasting over a spit. They haven't had to dig very far into the supplies that Peeta managed to get from the Cornucopia. This is good. The alliance is in better shape than the Careers, who will have to rely more and more on sponsorship gifts to get them through.

We have a delicious lunch around noon of a delicately seasoned fish on top of mixed vegetables and rice. It's simpler than many of the other meals that we've had here at the Capitol but it's still not as good as the lamb stew I had yesterday with Cinna.

As we're finishing up our lunch, our camera crew and guides for the tour of the facilities arrive. I'm a little surprised that they've corralled two victors into escorting us around but then realize that it's the perfect hook for the Capitol.

The victors assigned to escort us around are Beetee Lee from Three and Cecelia Singer from Eight. Beetee is an older man, about the same height as my mother with dark hair and eyes. Cecelia is a pretty young woman with chestnut hair and brown eyes. She's also heavily pregnant. I try not to roll my eyes at the obviousness of the Capitol putting the two pregnant women together. We'll make for thrilling television as we waddle all over the center and make use of every toilet we pass along the way.

Cecelia seems to understand this because she gives me a wry smile and goes to use a toilet off of the dining area that Cinna hadn't mentioned when he gave his tour yesterday. "Just in case," she whispers to me as she passes. I like her and try to remember which Games she won.

Beetee smiles at us and introduces himself. I find out that he won the Thirty-Sixth Hunger Games and remember that he's one of the few victors to have patrons that don't as for sexual favors.

Cecelia returns from the restroom and greets the group, "Sorry about that, I'm due in about a month and I swear when I'm not sleeping, I'm peeing. I'm Cecelia, winner of the Sixty-Fourth Hunger Games, aka the Games that everyone forgets because Finnick Odair won the year after me." Everyone chuckles at that and my impression of her improves.

The cameraman signals we should get a move on. Beetee takes the lead and explains that other than elevation all of the tribute quarters are laid out exactly the same so that none of the tributes gets an advantage in that respect. He also explains that the tower was constructed in the three months leading up to the Fiftieth Games, when the Capitol realized it was going to have double the tributes in attendance. Until then, the tributes were housed in smaller suites in the rooms that now make up the service areas of the Training Center.

It's all fairly dry and boring. We're not allowed to see where the kitchens, laundries, and various other support areas are. We aren't allowed in the other Districts' Quarters. We aren't allowed really much of anywhere.

While we walk, Cecelia chats with me. She asks how far along I am and then relates stories about her other three pregnancies. This is her fourth one and she's already told her husband that she's done. "I may be a victor," she confides in me, "but I'm still only human."

"I think I would have stopped after the first," I say. "I can't imagine having four kids."

Cecelia looks over at me, her brown eyes serious. "I used to think that too when I was your age. I never thought I would have kids. But if you can find the right person and the time's right, having children is the most natural and wonderful thing in the world. But it's got to be on your terms and at your time."

"How long did it take you to want to have kids?" I want to know.

"Honestly? It wasn't until after my eldest was born. Victors are encouraged to have children, you know." There's something about the way she says 'encouraged' that makes me shiver. "After Callie was about four months old, I realized I wanted another child. Not just for me, so my little girl could know what it was like to have a sibling's love." She pauses and then smiles at me. "But I'm sure you know all about that."

I nod. Yeah, I know all about that. It's why it's Prim in the Arena and not me.

We take the elevator to the basement and the main training room, a large room with a viewing platform off to one side and a dining room on the other. Once inside, Beetee and Cecelia take us from station to station explaining what each one is. Some are obstacle courses designed to improve reflexes and speed. Others are survival stations that include camouflage design and edible plant identification. The victors take turns explaining that each station is manned by an expert to provide training and guidance for the three days that tributes train. I'm a little disappointed that the experts aren't here now. I'd like to know what kind of edible plants are in the Arena.

We wrap up our tour at the main weapons station. Here, there are weapons of all shapes and sizes on racks. Set up in the training area are several dummies, some of which move while others stand still. Unlike at the previous stations we'd been shown, there is an instructor here. This must be the man Effie mentioned last night.

He's a heavily muscled man with short cropped hair and a Peacekeeper-like demeanor. I'm immediately on edge around him. We're joined at the station by the other remaining tributes' family members and their escorts, Johanna Mason, Annie Cresta, Finnick Odair, and Blight Carpenter.

Immediately, Cato and Clove's families step up to take a turn. Cato apparently only has a mother who looks to be in her mid-forties. The way she's built reminds me of the miners back home in Twelve. She picks up a sword and swings it around experimentally. She's clumsy, but the instructor corrects her grip. Clove's parents, on the other hand, try out some of the various staves and spears. Clove's father is able to wound a practice dummy in the leg with a thrown spear Her mother is much more accurate, but I imagine that is because of her Peacekeeper training. She hits the dummy numerous times with her thrown spears and it's clear where Clove got her hand-eye coordination from.

The instructor invites the rest of us to join and a few of us take up the offer. Mrs. Mellark tries out a sword but drops it when she goes to attack a training dummy, shaking her hand at the recoil. A couple of Rue's little brothers do an impromptu sword fight with two wooden batons. It's cute until the younger one whacks the older on the shin. The nine year old cries out and drops his wooden baton in favor of his fists. Rue's parents move in quickly to separate the two.

To distract the group and the cameras from the two crying children, Mr. Mellark and Bing try to encourage me to take up one of the bows hanging on the rack on the wall. I demur, not wanting to show off. I'm also nervous about letting the Capitol know what I can do.

However, I change my mind a few minutes later after Clint's parents take the stage. They do a pretty amazing demonstration of lassoing dummies with a coil of rope. If Clint is half as good as his parents, then that would go a long way to explaining his high score in training.

While Winnow and Rue's parents are trying out various bladed weapons, I step up and take a bow and arrows from the wall and walk over to the shooting range. The tension and grip are different than I'm used to and I take several practice pulls to acclimate myself to the new weapon. When I think I'm ready, I nock an arrow and pull it back. I clear my mind and narrow my focus to my target, a dummy about fifty feet away. Taking a deep breath, I release my arrow. It hits a little off center from the target, but it's not too bad. At least I didn't miss the target.

I notch another arrow and take sight again. This time the arrow is right on target. There's a smattering of applause behind me but I'm not happy. It's too easy to hit a stationary target. I move to the shooting range that has the moving dummies and try my luck there. One. Two. Three. Three arrows and I have three kills right through the eye. Too easy.

"Katniss!" someone calls my name and I turn to see Finnick Odair holding a few bird decoys from one of the other training stations.

I smile and nod. That is more like it.

He throws one fake bird up in the air and I quickly shoot it down, again it's too easy. He tosses another bird then a few moments later another bird. The game goes on with Finnick lobbing the birds up into the air and me shooting them down until I run out of arrows.

A loud round of applause startles me and I turn around to find everyone watching me. Mr. Mellark, Farl, Bing, Finnick and Rue's siblings are all sporting huge grins and clapping enthusiastically. Most of the rest of group are sporting expressions of varying degrees of surprise and awe and are clapping kind of methodically. My mother is frowning slightly but clapping as well. She knows how good I am, but I've just revealed to the Capitol my skill and there isn't an easy or good explanation about how I've managed to gain that skill.

As for Mrs. Mellark, she's standing staring at me with her hands clenched in rage. I don't know why. I know she dislikes me, but this hatred that I'm feeling right now is something else. Something more than just her youngest son liking me.

Then, all of a sudden it hits me, she's not angry with me. She's jealous. And that's even more dangerous.

* * *

**AN:**

Written 7/9/13 as part of Camp NaNoWriMo

Revised 7/20/13

Beta Read by RoseFyre

I can hear what you're saying. Just get on with the Games. And I will, but there's a lot of stuff I need to cover in the mean time and I don't like to rush things so that you're left feeling incomplete and unsatisfied.

On a writing note, I've hit my Nano goal for this month (50,000 words) but I'm not stopping. The goal is to get most if not all of this thing written and I'm currently near the end of Chapter 25. Think about that for a moment and think about how long the chapters forthcoming are going to be. As an amusing note, the actual Hunger Games novel about 98,000 words. This fic is going to pass that. Whoops?

I've fully written one side story to this. Unfortunately I can't publish it until quite a distance in the future same with another side story I am mostly finished with. I've also started on a multi chapter side story to this featuring Gale. Now here, you have one of two options. You can either get it after this fic finishes since it deals with his reactions to everything through the end of this and a little beyond. Or you can have me break it up and start publishing it now in chapter format. Fair warning, the chapters will be shorter than this story's but they will be over 1000 words per (at least). So it's up to you and what you want, my lovely and awesome readers.

Thank you to the people who reviewed last time: RoseFyre, ForFutureReference, Chaos Symphonic X, Mercoorio, Katara1439, perdita4321, hgfan, Random Thought Girl, Max-Rose-Clary, jj, Everlark Lover, Guest, SilverBelle, ShortySC22.

I look forward to hearing what you think! And all comments, whether they are critical or not, are accepted, loved, and fed cookies.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Spectator**

_By Fanfic Allergy_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Three**

The realization that Mrs. Mellark is jealous of me but also of my whole family stuns me. In her eyes, her family likes mine more. Her husband is in love with my mother. Her youngest son is in love with me. Everyone likes my little sister. And no one likes her. Not that she's given them any reason to, in my opinion. But I can see the resentment and jealousy in her eyes. She hates my family in the same way that I hate the Capitol and I'm a little concerned about what she might do.

I tear my gaze away from Mrs. Mellark and put the bow and empty quiver of arrows away. Mrs. Mellark isn't important, getting through the rest of these Games is.

When I return to the group, a few of the victors get up to demonstrate their skills. Johanna is first with her axe. She's good and a little scary, if I'm honest with myself.

"That was some show you put on there," a deep husky voice says into my ear.

I turn to see Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta standing next to me. "Thanks. And thanks for the help earlier," I say, referring to Finnick's tossing of decoys into the air for me to hit.

"It was Annie's suggestion," he answers, motioning to the pretty brown haired woman with striking green eyes standing next to him.

Annie smiles at me vaguely. "It looked like you needed help. Finnick is good at helping."

I'm not really sure what I can say to that, so I ask, "Are either of you going to give us a demonstration?"

"They'd probably crucify me if I didn't," Finnick says ruefully. "My skill with my trident is well known." I can hear the double meaning in that phrase and it makes me uncomfortable.

Annie comes to my rescue with her answer. "I don't like fighting even for pretend. It brings back too many bad memories."

Finnick looks over at the weapons demonstration and then down at her, his concern written all over his handsome features. "Do you need to go back to our quarters?" he asks her.

She shakes her head. "I should be okay." She smiles up at him. "I'd rather be here with you while I can." I feel like there's a deeper meaning to her words than I'm able to interpret but it's not any of my business.

I'm about to turn back to watching the demonstrations when Finnick's voice stops me. "How did you learn to shoot like that?"

I shake my head and point to the cameras and the rest of the group. I don't want to talk about it when someone can hear. And I don't want to talk about it to someone I barely know at all. It's one thing to trap and kill game, it's another thing entirely to shoot it. Shooting it means I have a bow and bows aren't allowed in the Districts. My father was always careful to caution me that our weapons could never be seen and I've followed that rule.

Finnick seems to understand because he lets it drop. Annie picks up the conversation and asks me how far along I am. There's a wistfulness to her expression and I sense that she wishes she were in my shoes. I also sense that she would like the baby to be Finnick's. I feel sorry for her. Because of the Capitol's love for the bronzed victor from Four, she's unlikely to get her wish.

The demonstration winds to a close and we head to a large banquet hall in another portion of the Training Center. Beetee tells us this hall is used by mentors before the start of the Games to try to drum up sponsors for their tributes. The morning of the Games, before they start, there's a large breakfast held there and at various key points during the Games there are other events. The next one is scheduled for tomorrow morning after the final tribute odds come out.

The room is decorated with stylized portraits of past victors: Enobaria Idocrase from Two with blood dribbling down her chin and her opponent at her feet with his throat ripped out; Johanna Mason with a partially torn shirt with her final opponent pinned to a tree with an axe in his head; Finnick Odair holding a trident with one foot on a netted opponent. It's just gruesome and disturbing.

In the center of the room is a large table with flowers and candelabras on it. I walk around the table, looking to find out which seat faces a portrait that is the least disturbing. It's not easy. The two end places have a little placard on them that reads 'reserved.' Reserved for who, I wonder. I finally settle on a chair near the far end that is opposite a victor whose name I can't remember fending off a mutated snake. That must be the victor of one of the Games that the elements and Arena traps killed more tributes than the tributes themselves. It happens about once every ten years or so. The last time was Annie Cresta's year when a broken dam took out most of the remaining tributes and she only survived because she was the best swimmer.

Speaking of Annie, I notice that Finnick isn't with her now when she sits down next to me on my right. I raise an eyebrow in question. "He had an appointment," she says in a sad tone of voice.

I don't press further. I am assuming by appointment, she means Finnick had a rendezvous with some Capitol citizen. Knowing what I do now and suspecting what I suspect, I feel sorry for the two of them.

The rest of the group sit down and I note that we've picked up several other victors including the Capitol darlings Cashmere and Gloss Velvet. An old woman comes and sits down next to Annie and my mother sits on my left. Mrs. Mellark, seeing this, deliberately sits down at the place furthest from us. The rest of her family follows her out of obligation. I see Farl wanting to sit near the elegant and beautiful Cashmere who takes a seat opposite my mother.

When we're all seated. the doors to the hall open and two flamboyantly dressed men walk in. I recognize one right away as Claudius Templesmith, announcer for the Games and Caesar's co-anchorman. The other, a dark haired man in his thirties sporting an elaborate beard, I don't know. Although from the reactions of the victors around the table, they do.

The other man is the first to speak. "Good evening everyone, it really is a pleasure to see all of you gathered here. Victors and family members alike. It really shows me just how much the Games bring us together as a nation." I try not to stare at him. Does he really think that? I look around me and I see I'm not the only one incredulous at his words. He apparently doesn't notice or care about the people's reactions because he continues, "My name is Seneca Crane and I'm the Head Gamemaker this year."

He's the Head Gamemaker? No wonder the victors all reacted to him. He's the one in charge of designing the Arena and overseeing the events happening in there. This man literally has the power of life and death of my sister, along with every other tribute, in his hands.

He comes down to my end of the table and sits down with a warm smile at Cashmere. She smiles back, but it's more polite than pleasant. If I had to guess, he's got a crush on the beautiful victor but she only tolerates him because of his position.

He picks up his glass, which is quickly filled by a waiting servant and taps one of his forks against it lightly. Everyone turns to look at him. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like your attention, please." As he says this, several servants come forward and pour a golden bubbling liquid into tall fluted glasses. "In the spirit of Capitol/District unity, I want to make the following toast. To the Games!"

Claudius takes up the toast. "To the Games!"

Reluctantly the rest of us follow. We're still being recorded by the cameras that have been following us all day and it's apparent to me that this whole dinner was staged. I don't have a watch and there isn't a clock, but I bet that it's Mandatory Viewing right now.

After the toast, the servants scramble forward and start bringing out the first course, a salad of cucumbers, tomatoes, some kind of soft cheese and two other vegetables I can't identify coated in a sweet and tangy sauce. I like the cheese the most. I study the two vegetables trying to figure out their origin. One is soft and green and kind of tastes like butter. The other is round and crisp on the outside and soft in the middle; it has more texture than flavor. It's good, like most of the food here.

Seneca sits back down and turns to my mother and me. "So how did you like our training facilities?"

I'm not sure how to answer that and so I take a bite of food to try to stall. How did I like the place where they sent my sister and all of the other tributes to prepare for their deaths? It's not a question I can answer honestly.

Thankfully my mother steps up. "I thought it was interesting. I especially liked the survival skills stations. Medicinal plants are a bit of my family's specialty."

"Really! Why that explains where your little girl got her plant knowledge from. Did you know she was the first tribute we've had to correctly identify all of the edible plants? She even knew the difference between wild carrot and hemlock without smelling the plants. She's very talented."

"Thank you. But your station had me thinking," my mother continues. "Have you considered having a medicinal plant station? I don't know about you, but I think that'd be really useful. Take those two lovebirds from Two, their camp is right by several willow saplings. I don't know why they don't just get the bark and make a tea for Cato. It would help with his wound and the pain he has to be in. They've also passed entire bunches of self-heal, which is both edible and if applied to wounds would help fight off infection and help heal the wound faster. Prim used the plant on Peeta along with some plantain and cleavers."

Seneca stares at my mother, blinking rapidly. I can tell that he's completely shocked that someone would critique the Games or suggest new features to be added. "That's a really interesting idea, Violet. I can call you Violet, right?" he asks and at my mother's nod continues. "We've focused on giving all of the tributes an equal chance and so try to teach them how to find food, water, and make shelters. But if the tributes knew how to take care of themselves if they were hurt, that could be game changing. In a good way," he adds quickly. "It'd mean that those tributes injured early in the Games and who don't appeal to sponsors could take care of themselves and come back later to win. It'd give the underdogs a chance."

"Exactly," my mother agrees. "It'd make the Games more interesting."

"Indeed. And everyone loves an underdog! I'll have to bring it up at our next planning meeting once these Games are over. Thank you for the idea!"

My mother smiles. "You're quite welcome."

He directs his next question at me. "What about you? Any suggestions after taking the tour today?"

I shake my head. I haven't thought about it and frankly I don't want to think about better and more efficient ways for the Capitol to kill children.

"Oh surely you have something you'd like to see added." He turns to Cashmere and says, "Everyone does, you know?"

The former Career shrugs and turns back to her salad, separating the tomatoes from the rest of the food and then eating what's left. I'm surprised to see someone from a District waste food like that, but then I remember she's a Career and from One. She's probably never been hungry before her Games or since.

Seneca ignores Cashmere's disinterest and looks back at me. "You must have something you'd like to see added or changed."

I chew my food carefully and slowly, giving me time to think. There are things I'd like to see changed, like the elimination of the Games entirely. But I don't think that answer is going to go over very well. I finally think of something that would help tributes like Prim have a better chance. "I'd like to see a second Cornucopia or maybe little stashes of supplies hidden around the Arena."

He leans forward, pushing his salad out of the way. "Go on."

"The problem with the main Cornucopia is that one group, usually the alliance of Districts One, Two and Four take command of it and dominate for the entirety of the Games. It's a good strategy," I say to placate Cashmere, who's glaring at me, "but it gets boring after a while. If you had a second Cornucopia or stashes of supplies hidden around you could end up with other tributes being contenders. You wouldn't even necessarily have to tell the other tributes about it or you could, it's up to you. But if you did say that there was another Cornucopia in the Arena you could end up with another bloodbath like on the first day as the tributes struggle to get supplies and gain control of that resource." I pause to let that sink in a bit. I'm not really shooting for another bloodbath, just another way to get supplies. "On the other hand, you could go with the hidden stashes. Even make maps to certain stashes available as sponsorship gifts. It doesn't mean that they can't be found on their own, but I'm sure that Cato and Clove would love to have a secret stash about now."

"Interesting," Seneca says, leaning back in his chair. "I can see the potential in your idea. Especially once it was unveiled a tribute, like the boy from Eleven this year, would be even more of a powerhouse if he'd found a stash of something like body armor or a deadly weapon while someone like the girl would be more of a contender if she didn't have to worry about food or exposure."

"Exactly," I say. "It'd change the Games and make them more interesting. Not every tribute would be able to take advantage of that, but it would mean that the same districts wouldn't win year after year."

Cashmere is frowning at me and I can see she dislikes this idea intensely. I struggle not to smirk in her direction. The changes my mother and I are proposing would make it more likely that another District's tributes would win and not a Career District. This would be just fine by me. Over forty of the Games have been won by either Districts One, Two, or Four. That's unbalanced.

Seneca seems to agree. "It would be nice to get some more variety in our victors. I admit to having a fondness for District One." Again, he smiles at Cashmere. "But I know that one of my fellow Gamemakers is very enamored of the tributes from District Three. He loves the traps that the tributes from that district come up with and looks forward to seeing what new ones they will produce each year." He strokes his elaborate beard. "It's too bad we can't add these features to this year's Arena. I'm not even sure we can make it happen in time for the Quell next year. Just imagine what would have happened if..." he trails off into thought.

"Why couldn't you make it happen for the Quarter Quell?" my mother wants to know.

"Good question!" Seneca says brightly. "It's because we spend years designing and redesigning the Arenas and testing them out to make sure everything is perfect."

"Testing?" I ask. "How do you test an Arena?"

"We put a few criminals into the Arena and run them through various scenarios. Like do the fire jets work, do the trees fall on cue, are the muttations programmed correctly. Things like that."

I try not to stare in horror at Seneca Crane's words. They test the traps in the Arena on people? It doesn't matter what crime they committed, that kind of punishment is inhumane! Thinking about my hunting, I wonder if anyone from District Twelve caught poaching has been forced to test out any of the Arenas from the past.

"How far out in advance do you plan the Arenas?" my mother asks.

"Well, we have a general outline of what kinds of locations and terrains we want to use sketched out about ten years in advance. We don't want to repeat the same kinds of Arenas over and over again and it takes time to find the right locations to construct the Arenas. We really have a top notch scouting team that can see a homely stick of land and think: Arena." He pauses and I take the time to glance around. I see that everyone within earshot is listening, especially the victors. It makes sense since having an idea of what to expect Arena-wise will help their tributes later on.

"After we have the location," he continues. "It can take anywhere from one to three years to do all of the construction, testing and preparations. Muttations don't grow on trees, you know."

"I didn't know," my mother says.

"It really takes a lot of time and planning. But it's worth it!" he says excitedly. "Why the Arena we have planned for the Quell is going to be very exciting and something I don't think anyone's seen before."

Cashmere leans in, seemingly interested in the Gamemaker for the first time all night. "Tell me more, Sennie," she purrs.

"Now, now, Cashmere. You know I can't."

She pouts at him for a few seconds then turns back to her food. I find myself disliking her more with every action she takes and word she speaks.

The servants start to clear away the salad course and bring out the main course of some kind of stuffed bird on a bed of rice and greens styled into a nest. It's pretty, but I'm craving something a little more substantial. I eat it anyway because I'm hungry.

My mother tries to keep the conversation going with Seneca by asking him about his favorite Arenas and which traps he likes the most. It's pretty ingenious on her part and I know the victors are listening to his responses to file away for later. We find out that despite the disaster of tributes freezing to death in the Seventy-First Games that Seneca really liked the snow covered arena. He'd like to retry it, maybe with some hot springs next time to keep people warm and more starting kits nearer the tribute launch pads. He's excited by his work and clearly loves what he's doing. I find it disturbing that he's so happy to be sending kids to their deaths.

The old woman next to Annie babbles something incomprehensible to me. I give her a blank look and she repeats herself. It doesn't help.

Annie comes to my rescue. "Mags wants to know if you're the one who taught your little sister how to make nets."

So that's what she was asking? I would have never figured that out on my own. I nod and say, "Yeah. My father taught me before he died and I've been teaching Prim these last few months."

Mags babbles something which Annie translates to, "They look pretty good for a beginner. Not good enough to catch fish on a day to day basis, but good enough for a few weeks. You should come see me later, I'll show you how to make better ones."

"Thanks. I'll look you up." I really do appreciate the offer. Four is known for its fishing fleets and considering Mags' advanced age she obviously knows a thing or two that I could learn.

Annie leans over and whispers, "Mags must really like you and your sister. She doesn't teach just anyone what she knows. She taught Finnick how to use a net and spear fish when he was growing up. It's why he was deadly in his Games."

I remember Finnick's Games, not because I remember when they happened, but because they replay the three hour highlight reel of his Games multiple times every year. Even though he was young, he was incredibly dangerous. But once he got his trident and made a net, he was unstoppable.

I spend the rest of dinner chatting with Mags and Annie for the most part while fielding the occasional question from Seneca or some other victor. Dessert is a rich chocolate cake drizzled in some kind of berry sauce. I can only eat a few bites of it because it is so decadent. For the first time all meal, Cashmere finishes what's put in front of her. It's a bit of a surprise considering how she picked at most of the meal, but I write it off as another sign of her being from One.

After dinner, we get up to mingle for a bit and Seneca approaches me. "I didn't want to ask you this during dinner, but do you think I could meet her?"

I'm a little confused at what he means initially. Which her is he talking about? Prim? Then it hits me, he's talking about my baby. The daughter that the entire Capitol other than President Snow thinks is Peeta's. I nod my head, even though I really want to say no.

The Head Gamemaker kneels down in front of me and places his hands on my belly. "Hello, little girl. I'm very honored to meet you and I hope that I'll have the chance to get to know you in the future," he says directly to my stomach. He then tilts his head up to look at me. "My wife, Paulina, is pregnant, you know. We're going to have a son around the same time you'll give birth to your daughter. I really honestly and truly hope that they can become friends and grow up together."

He sounds so sincere that I nod again. I don't want to correct him because there's no way that what he hopes will come true. Not with the Games still taking place every year. Not with the Capitol keeping the Districts starving and segregated.

"Thank you, Katniss," he says, standing up. "I appreciate you letting me impose on you like this."

"At least you asked," I blurt out. I feel like I need to say something. In a way, for all of his willingness to instrument the tributes' deaths, he's more decent than many of the people I've met here. "Most everyone I've met in the Capitol don't even do that."

"I'm really sorry to hear that, Katniss. I would have wished our citizens would have been more polite than that and for that rudeness you have my apologies."

"But you're not the one who was rude."

He smiles at me a little sadly. "Yet, I feel that someone should apologize. For everything. Now, if you'll excuse me. There's someplace I need to be."

And on that cryptic statement, he strides from the room.

**oOo**

I slip away as soon as I can and go back to the twelfth floor. I'm tired of being social. I'm tired of smiling, of having to think about every possible meaning to what I say, of having to suck up to people I can't stand, of having to pretend to be someone I'm not. I long for District Twelve and its coal dust covered streets and people. At least there, I knew who I was.

I find myself missing Madge and Gale and the people of the Hob. I'm glad my mother is here with me, but it doesn't make up for the confinement I feel.

I'm still hungry and craving something meaty. I order up two lamb chops and am disappointed when they arrive overcooked. They're still tasty with a mint apple sauce, but I like my meat rarer. I try again and the same thing happens. I finish those two chops as well and decide not to try again. Besides, I'm full.

I glance at the clock and see that it's only nine at night but it feels like later. Probably the time difference again. There's nothing keeping me from going to bed. From what I saw today, the Arena is in the same time zone as District Twelve which means that it's already dark there. With only eight tributes left and five of those in an alliance still, there will likely not be much going on tonight. Not with Cato's injuries and Clove caring for him.

I get ready for bed and pull on a soft nightgown of light green cotton. I'll take a shower tomorrow when I am more coherent. For now, I sleep.

When I wake up several hours later, I can see the tendrils of dawn stretching across the sky from my window. I take a shower, trying the best I can to not end up smelling like some kind of flower.

I don't succeed.

When I get out, I do my hair up in its signature braid and try to find the pants I wore yesterday where I left them the night before but they're gone. Someone must have come in and cleaned up after me when I was sleeping. I'm upset with myself that I didn't hear them and vow to try to be more vigilant.

I pull out another pair of black pants and a simple pull over shirt and put them on. I note that most of my wardrobe is made up of dresses of several varieties. I wrinkle my nose. I'm not a dress kind of person. The only times I've worn a dress deliberately since I lost my father have been for the Reaping. Dresses aren't conducive to tramping about in the forest and hunting game.

I go out to the dining room and help myself to the offerings there. I'm mostly interested in the crisp bacon and fresh fruit but when a crescent shaped pastry catches my eye, I grab it.

Bing and Farl are both up and in the sitting room with the television. I don't know where the others are, but I figure they're either still sleeping or doing something else.

The Games are on, of course, and for once not following Cato and Clove. Instead, the cameras are actually focused on Prim's group.

I take a seat on the couch.

Bing looks over at me and smiles. "Morning, Katniss. Glad you could join us."

"Morning. So what's going on?" I ask.

Farl answers, "Rue's sleeping. Peeta's standing watch while Thresh is gathering firewood nearby."

"What about Prim?"

"She and that girl from Five are out gathering food," Bing says. "They've had to go out farther than before because they've stripped the closer areas bare."

I nod. That's something Gale, Prim, and I have had to watch out for in our daily forays into the woods. You don't want to harvest the whole area because you want the food to be there year after year. It's just not sustainable to gather everything. That just leads to starvation in the long run when your previous supply runs out. It doesn't matter as much in the Arena, but back home it's something I have to think about.

The screen is showing Prim and Rani on the edge of a small clearing. There are patches of wild carrot along one edge and I can see in the clearing itself fireweed, mustard, and dandelions. Prim is currently gathering young pokeweed shoots and fiddlehead ferns while Rani is collecting some kind of prickly berry.

I wonder why they're following the two because other than a few snippets of random conversation, the two girls aren't talking. There must not be anything else of interest going on in the Arena. This tends to happen later in the Games. It's also generally around this time that the Gamemakers do something to up the interest and excitement. Like call a Feast or release some kind of rabid muttation.

I eat my breakfast, enjoying the ability to see my sister and gauge how she's doing. From what I can see, she's thinner, not by a lot, but the little weight she put on while in the Capitol is gone. She's not lost as much as a lot of the tributes get during the Games. That means that her alliance is effective despite limited supplies. If I had to guess, I suspect that they've also been making good use of the string I sent.

I get my answer to that when Prim decides that they should move on a few minutes later. They've got a good haul from the area and they need to get the greens they collected to cooking since several of them need multiple changes of water before they're edible. They stop along their way back at several snares set with Prim's string and the wire from Rue's pack. They don't have too much, just a rabbit and some kind of turkey-like bird the announcers call a groosling. Still, it's food.

Prim field dresses both animals while Rani resets the two traps. It's an efficient system and it's clear that they've both done their respective tasks before.

They continue back through the woods until they reach the stream. The commentators state that they're about a half a mile from the main camp, which is unfortunate because there's an obstacle between them and the camp.

Clint.

The screen splits and now I can see Clint. He's kneeling along the stream edge drinking water. He's not purifying it, which is stupid in my opinion. But you can't stop people who aren't used to surviving out of doors from doing things that seem harmless but can be deadly.

He pauses and looks downstream with a startled expression on his face. He's heard something.

Rani and Prim.

The two are walking along the stream edge talking about what they're going to do with the food they've gathered. Prim wants to roast the bird and rabbit while Rani is pushing for a stew. Neither is paying that much attention to the world around them.

I frown. It's almost like they've forgotten there are other tributes out there and that those tributes are deadly.

Clint hasn't forgotten.

He scrambles off of the rocky strewn beach and into the woods. He finds a tree that has several branches overhanging the edge of the stream and climbs it. I'm impressed with his climbing ability, especially with his lame foot. He uses the rope he has to loop around the tree and shimmies up the trunk. Once he reaches the limb he wants, he lays down on it and does something with the rope that reminds me of some of the snares that Gale sets. He makes sure the knife on his belt is secured and that he's out of sight from anyone approaching.

And then he waits.

* * *

**AN:**

Written 7/14/13

Revised 7/28/13

Beta Read by RoseFyre

Don't kill me for the cliffhanger. But trust me, it needed to end there.

About Mrs. Mellark. I am not condoning her treatment of her children as seen in the Hunger Games. But, I'm doing my level best to try to make her anger and outbursts understandable. In a very real way she is threatened by the Everdeens and she's got some serious self esteem issues. I've hinted at it before, but I'm going to spell it out here. In District Twelve, people marry young. Typically around nineteen or twenty. Mrs. Mellark was twenty five to Mr. Mellark's eighteen when they got married. That is a substantial age difference and I've hinted at it earlier that the only reason he married her was because she got pregnant at the District's Final Reaping Day Party. So in the eyes of District Twelve, she was an old maid who no one wanted and only got a man because she got pregnant. Not something that's good for the self esteem. So like many people, she lashes out. And she lashes out at the wrong people. It doesn't mean she's in the right but in a crapsack world without therapists except for in District Thirteen and the Capitol she hasn't gotten the help she needed to learn to deal more effectively. I may write a story about this whole thing. I may not.

I actually enjoyed writing Seneca Crane. We didn't really see him in the books but in the Movies he was portrayed fairly sympathetically. I'm running with that.

I also feel that just like any major event that there's a lot of planning involved. I am actually involved with a very large event here in the U.S. I can state that we do planning years in advance for some things. So the whole idea that you can build an Arena in a few months with the detail that the Quell Arena had is laughable to me. Even with technology, it still takes time, planning, and testing.

To answer a question a few people asked, I'm going to try to update once every week to two weeks. It depends a lot on my schedule. I like to sit on a chapter and go over and reread it with new eyes after I get it back from Rose. That's because I find that a lot of the time, I'll find different ways to word things or realize I need a speech or action tag. So I'm going to try to keep two to three chapters ahead of where I'm publishing. So the answer is, providing I don't hit a wall I'll have this finished by November.

A big thank you to my reviewers: the 3 guests, Everlark Lover, Abbie, Random Thought Girl, Katara1439, ForFutureReference, Sara, jj, HealthyHungerGamesObsession101, FourFan, ShinnyGlaceon, littlewildkat, ShortySC22, SilverBelle, catnip851, and RoseFyre.

Up next: Well, I bet you can guess.


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